Keitaro's Big Adventure
by Mister Cynical
Summary: Keitaro agrees to help Seta and finds himself drawn into a war between archaeologists and terrorists. Now being re-writ!
1. Chapter 01

I don't own Love Hina. (PH34R my L33T idiot-proof disclaimer.)

-Keitaro's Big Adventure

Chapter One

Keitaro Urashima looked around the Tokyo-U campus and sighed happily. "What's with you?" Naru Narusegawa asked.

"Only a few years ago I never would have believed that I would actually get into Tokyo-U," Keitaro explained. "Now look at me. I'm a third year student instead of a forth year ronin."

"I guess you have come a long way," Naru said with a small smile.

"Isn't that plane flying kind of low?" someone called suddenly. Keitaro turned and saw a small prop-driven monoplane flying towards him. It was only about thirty feet off the ground. 'That plane looks familiar,' Keitaro thought suddenly. 'Now where have I seen it before?' The answer hit him like a ton of bricks.

"It's Seta!" Keitaro turned and began sprinting. Somewhere above him he could here someone yelling over the plane's engine.

"He's running!"

"Just grab him!" an all-too familiar voice answered. Keitaro glanced over his shoulder and saw the airplane bearing down on him. The side door opened and a young man brandishing a fishing pole climbed down onto the plane's landing gear.

"A little faster!" the man with the pole yelled. Keitaro stopped watching and put everything he had into his run.

"Leave me alone Seta!" Something snagged the back of Keitaro's khaki slacks and lifted him into the air. He glanced back and saw a small, gleaming fishing hook caught on his belt loops.

"There's a truck!" the man with the pole yelled. "Pull up!" Keitaro looked forward in time to see that he was rushing towards the trailer of a parked truck. "Oh shit!" Keitaro sighed in resignation. 'Why me?' he wondered as his head connected with the truck.

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"Oh shit!" Gregory Tyler winced as the young man struck the truck with a hollow metallic bang. To Greg's complete and utter amazement the truck rolled over like it had been struck with a wrecking ball.

"Is something wrong?" Seta Noriyasu asked. Greg glanced up and noticed that the older man was looking over his shoulder at him. A building was looming ominously before them.

"Eyes front!" Seta turned and jerked the plane's controls back. The plane went into a steep climb and Greg held on to the door's handle for dear life. He glanced down and winched as the young man dangling from the end of the fishing line struck the building.

"Could you reel in Urashima now?" Seta asked.

"If he's still alive," Greg commented. He began to reel in his line. Within half a minute the young man was close enough for Greg to reach down and grab. He dragged Seta's part-timer into the plane and slammed the door shut. Greg felt for the young man's pulse and stared in amazement. Not only was the young man's pulse strong and healthy, he was already beginning to regain consciousness. "Super Man you are."

"How's Urashima doing?" Seta asked.

"He's fine," Greg said, shaking his head and the sheer impossibility of it all. "This guy must be immortal or something."

"Something like that," Seta said. "Uh oh."

"What?" Greg demanded, climbing into the copilot's seat.

"Looks like there's an armada after us," Seta said as he pointed to the radar screen. Greg stared at it for a moment before he brushed the crumbs from lunch off the screen.

"There are two of them," he growled. He climbed out of the copilot's seat and glanced around the back of the small plane. "Where are the rocks?"

"We used all of them on the way here," Seta said sheepishly.

"Wonderful," Greg growled in annoyance as he opened one of the boxes in the back and pulled out his M21 semi-auto rifle. "Just see if you can fly straight," he added as he loaded a twenty-round clip into the rifle and ripped open the plane's side door.

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

Keitaro slowly floated to consciousness and found himself lying on a gently vibrating floor. 'What happened?' He glanced around the interior of the plane and winced as an icy breeze rustled his hair. He glanced to the side and saw a young man with a large rifle in his hands wedged in the plane's open door. He brought the rifle to his shoulder and aimed carefully before firing. Keitaro glanced out of the window and watched as a small plane with a pair of huge guns under its wings exploded. "Oh hey Part-Timer!" Keitaro glanced up and saw Seta grinning at him from the pilot's seat. "Come on up here!"

"What the hell is going on?" Keitaro demanded as he sat in the copilot's seat.

"Bank left!" the man in the back yelled. The plane rolled suddenly and green streaks shot past the window.

"It's a laser!" Keitaro screamed.

"They're tracers," the young man in the back corrected dryly. His rifle barked and there was another explosion just behind them. The young man shut the door and ejected a large black box from his rifle.

"Meet Gregory Tyler," Seta said, introducing the man. "He's my new assistant."

"If you have an assistant then why did you drag me into this?" Keitaro asked.

"I'm not an archaeologist," Greg explained as he began loading bullets into the box. He finished quickly and laid the box inside a large wooden crate. "I'm just here because I need something to do and decided archaeology was pretty safe."

"Right," Seta said.

"Right?" Greg demanded, brandishing his rifle. "Does this look like I'm safe?"

"Maybe not," Seta said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. Greg sighed and laid the rifle inside one of the wooden crates in the back of the plane.

"So why exactly did you drag me into this?" Keitaro asked. "And who are those guys back there?"

"Those guys are the men trying to destroy the world!" Seta

declared, throwing his hands up dramatically.

"Gah!" Greg yelped as he lunged forward and grabbed the controls. "You keep your mind on flying and I'll explain it to him."

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"Here." Keitaro took the small mug of coffee with a grateful nod and leaned back against one of the wood crates. Greg sat down too and sipped his coffee.

"So how did you get stuck traveling with Seta?" Keitaro asked.

"Just by a chance meeting," Greg said simply. "He crashed a van into my shack and we've been traveling together ever since. Anyway we heard a rumor about something important on one of the islands. . ."

"Islands?" Keitaro cut in.

"Hawaii," Greg explained. "That's where I was living."

"You're an American?" Keitaro asked. Greg nodded.

"Anyway," he began again. "We found some ruins hidden by a thick forest and we began excavating."

"What did you find?" Keitaro asked.

"Well we found out that those ruins were linked to the Lost Turtle Civilization of the Pararaklese Islands," Greg explained. "They had nearly identical architecture. This proved that the civilization was a massive empire." Greg reached into one of the boxes in the plane and pulled out a magazine. "Look on page ten." Keitaro stared at the magazine's title.

"I can't read English very well."

"It's German," Greg said. "Just look at the pictures." Keitaro flipped open the magazine and stared at the picture on page ten. "Look familiar?"

"Yeah," Keitaro said, staring at the vase on the page. "It looks like one of the vases from the Turtle Civilization."

"It was excavated from some ruins in Germany," Greg explained. "It's about three thousand years old."

"But the vases on the Pararaklese Islands were only about two thousands years old," Keitaro said in confusion.

"Which may mean that the Turtle Civilization lasted for a thousand years!" Seta declared. "And they may have been a world-wide empire!"

"We covered the world-wide empire bit already," Greg said.

"That doesn't explain who those guys you shot down were," Keitaro interrupted.

"It may," Greg said. "Have you ever heard of Atlantis?"

"Of course," Keitaro said. "It was supposed to be a highly-advanced civilization that was lost. . .wait a minute. You think that the Turtle Civilization was linked to Atlantis?"

"We found something in the Hawaii ruins that turned out to be rough coordinates," Greg explained. "They marked an area about one hundred miles south-west of Hawaii. We checked all the books and found nothing there."

"That really doesn't explained who those guys were," Keitaro said.

"We don't know who those guys were," Greg said flatly. "They busted into the excavation site in Hawaii and they've been after us since then."

"Why?" Keitaro asked.

"Well. . ." Greg said tiredly.

"Greg blew up the excavation site," Seta said.

"I've always believed that it would be better to destroy something then to let someone take it from you," Greg said. Keitaro could tell that they had already had this conversation before.

"Since then they've been after us," Greg explained.

"Get ready to land," Seta called back. "We're here."

"Here?" Keitaro asked as he looked out of the planes window and saw nothing but water.

"Here," Greg said as he opened a wooden box and pulled out a wet suit.

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"I don't know about this," Keitaro commented as he pulled at his black wet suit.

"Just don't freak out," Greg said. "Keep relatively calm and you'll be fine. All you have to do is keep an eye on your gauges and tell us if they change a lot suddenly."

"How will I tell you?" Keitaro asked.

"There's a radio in your face mask," Greg explained. "Hey Seta?"

"Yeah?" the older man asked.

"Where's that Glock?"

"Here." Seta reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a black handgun. Greg took it and quickly checked it over. "What do you need that for?"

"It can shoot underwater," Greg explained as he holstered the pistol on his weight belt.

"That doesn't explained why we need it," Keitaro said.

"Those guys who tried to shoot us down are still after us," Greg explained as he slipped out of the door and onto the plane's pontoons.

"His past has made him very paranoid," Seta whispered. "He prefers to have a gun within reach whenever possible."

"What kind of past?" Keitaro asked.

"He'll tell you eventually," Seta explained as he sat on the edge of the plane's hatch and pulled on his flippers. "If he ever trusts you." With that Seta pulled on his mask and disappeared into the blue waters of the Pacific.

"What kind of past could he have?" Keitaro wondered as he stepped onto the pontoon and jumped into the water.

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"This is incredible," Keitaro said as he looked around the water.

"I knew you'd like it Part-Timer," Seta said. "What do you have Greg?"

"Well were have about a ten square mile search area," Greg said. "I figure it'll take us about twenty days for a fairly thorough search."

"Are we right in the center?" Seta asked.

"Yes we are," Greg said, holding up the small screen strapped to his wrist. "What I don't know is why we're in the center. We should be in one of the corners."

"I just have a gut feeling," Seta said. "Hey look at that." Keitaro looked where Seta was pointing and saw a strange structure rising from the sea floor. "Does that look natural?"

"No," Greg said. He sounded infinitely annoyed by the fact that Seta's gut feeling had been dead on. "Ten square miles," he said slowly. "And you picked the precise number of square feet."

"Lucky guess?" Seta asked with a chuckle as he swam over to inspect the strange building. "Looks like some sort of temple."

"Found the front door," Greg said. Keitaro swam over. "Looks like they're closed." Greg tapped his gloved hand against the tarnished metal door. He rubbed at the filmy coating on the mental gently. "Looks like copper." Keitaro began to swim around the building and stared at the beautiful architecture.

"I think I found something."

"What is it?" Greg asked as he swam over.

"This might go inside," Keitaro said as he pointed to the large hole in the sea floor.

"The way it tilts. . ." Greg began. "I agree with him." He pulled the pistol from his hip. "I'll go inside and have a look."

"What do you need the gun for?" Keitaro asked.

"Pest control," Greg said as he pulled the flashlight from his side and began to pull himself into the hole.

"Sharks?" Keitaro asked looking around nervously.

"Oh please," Greg said. "Sharks rarely attack. I'm more worried about eels and terrorists." His flippers disappeared from view and he didn't say anything for a while.

"Greg?" Seta asked.

"Oh my God," Greg said. "You guys should really have a look at this."

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"Oh my God." Greg looked around the inside of the temple and pulled off his facemask. The air was a little stale, but still breathable. He turned his flashlight off and looked around the building in the flickering glow coming from the oil lamps. "You guys should really have a look at this."

"What is it?" Seta asked.

"Just come in here," Greg said as he holstered the Glock. "You're not going to believe this." A few minutes later the small pool of water on the temple's floor bubbled and Seta appeared. He hauled himself out of the water and turned to help Keitaro. Seta pulled off his mask and looked around the room with a sense of wonder and awe. "This seems like some kind of library," Greg commented.

"Why do you say that?" Keitaro asked. Greg moved towards a large bookshelf-like piece of furniture and pulled an ancient scroll from one of the cubbyholes. Seta took it and spread it out across an ancient wooden table. Greg peered carefully at the desk.

"This is oak."

"So?" Keitaro asked.

"I don't think that oak grows in this area of the world," Greg said. "This does go to prove the world-wide empire theory."

"Yes it does," Seta said with a childish glee. "These markings are almost identical to those of that we found at the Pararaklese and Hawaii sites."

"Can you translate it?" Greg asked, some of Seta's excitement finally catching up with him.

"If given enough time," Seta said as he tugged a digital camera from his belt and began taking pictures of the scrolls. Greg heard a soft bubbling sound and turned to stare at the hole in the building's floor.

"I think that commodity just ran out," he said as he drew the Glock from his hip. At nearly the same time a man in all black dive gear erupted from the hole with a sub-machinegun ready.

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

Keitaro winced as Greg's pistol barked loudly. The diver jerked back and his sub-machinegun sent a number of bullets stitching into the building's ceiling. "Get your gear on!" Greg screamed as he pulled his dive vest back on. Keitaro nodded and began to jerk his dive gear onto himself. Another diver forced his way past his comrade's body and Greg dove behind a hardwood counter as the man fired. Something overhead cracked and Keitaro looked up in time to see water spraying forcefully through the bullet holes in the building's ceiling.

"Is your gear on?" Seta yelled over the gunfire being exchanged between Greg and their assailants.

"Yeah!" Keitaro screamed. Then the aging rock overhead finally caved in and thousands of gallons of ocean roared into the building. The wave of water slammed into Keitaro and threw him against a wall hard enough to knock the wind out of him. The next thing he knew Seta had him by the hand and was dragging him towards the surface.

"I can't do this alone Part-Timer!" the older man called over the radio. Keitaro glanced down at the rapidly disappearing sea floor.

"What's about Greg?"

"He'll be fine," Seta said stiffly. "We need to get to the surface."

"There are people down there trying to kill him!" Keitaro yelled.

"I wouldn't worry about him," Seta said. "He really can take care of himself very well." At that moment they both broke the surface of the water and Keitaro was momentarily blinded by the brilliant sunlight.

"Freeze!" Keitaro pulled off his facemask and stared at the man perched on the edge of the boat. "Don't move!" the man yelled, waving his weapon threateningly. The water a few inches from Keitaro's face danced suddenly and the man on the boat pitched backwards with a scream. Greg broke the surface without his dive gear and sucked in a lung-full of air. He continued to wheeze and cough as he pulled himself onto the boat and holstered his pistol. Seta threw his dive gear up onto the boat and pulled himself up.

"It's official," Greg wheezed. "These bastards are after us and our discoveries." He leaned down and took Keitaro's dive gear. Keitaro looked around the boat and felt ill when he saw the lifeless corpse sprawled across the deck. Greg took the man's gun and pushed the body overboard.

"Where's the plane?" Seta asked.

"In a million pieces," Greg said, nodding towards a burning hulk floating on the water. He reached over the side of the boat and dragged one of the wooden boxes up onto the ship. "We need to get to a harbor."

"Can we make it to Hawaii?" Seta asked.

"Hold on!" Keitaro exploded. "We were just attacked and a building that may have been proof of Atlantis was destroyed!"

"That was then," Greg said with a tired sigh. "You have the pictures?"

"Yeah," Seta said, holding up his digital camera. "This is all we have to try and find out the next location."

"Let's just get out of here before more of those guys come," Greg said, nodding towards the rapidly sinking body in the water.

-End

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

-Author's notes. Here's my first stab at Love Hina fanfiction and my first stab at comedy in one package. I've kind of been toying with the idea of this story since I finished the manga. This takes place in an alternate universe after Keitaro is given the Hinata Inn by his grandmother. The time period is 2004.


	2. Chapter 02

I don't own Love Hina. (PH34R my L33T idiot-proof disclaimer.)  
  
-Keitaro's Big Adventure  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Keitaro looked around the cabin of the small boat and watched as Greg continued to hunt through the wall lockers. "What are you looking for?"  
  
"Bullets," Greg said. "This isn't exactly the march of dimes here."  
  
"What do you mean?" Keitaro asked.  
  
"I mean we need money," Greg said. "We don't exactly get paid for archaeology."  
  
"I told you the pay was lousy," Seta commented from where he was using a computer to examine the pictures from the digital camera.  
  
"Put these on," Keitaro turned back to look at Greg in time to see a set of dark-colored clothing flying at him. The rough cloth hit his face and dropped to the floor.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"BDUs," Greg said. "Better then a wet suit."  
  
"Right," Keitaro said as he picked up the thick camouflage jacket and pants. All of their clothes had been lost when the plane had been destroyed. The only thing they had managed to salvage was one of the wooden boxes from the back.  
  
"There's not much here," Greg said as he closed the last locker. "But it will help."  
  
"What did you find?" Seta asked.  
  
"Aside from the MP5," Greg began. "I've found three hundred and sixty rounds of 9mm ammo. We can probably sell this boat for a good deal of money too."  
  
"We don't have the ownership papers," Keitaro said as he stripped out of his wetsuit and pulled the camouflage clothes on.  
  
"Doesn't matter," Greg said. "I know some good black market guys that'll give us a good price. Any other questions?"  
  
"What's an MP5?" Keitaro asked.  
  
"This is an MP5," Greg said, patting the black gun he had taken from the man on the boat. "If you want to get technical, it's a Heckler and Koch MP5N sub-machinegun."  
  
"What about the salvaged supplies?" Seta asked.  
  
"We have the M21 with eighty rounds and we also have my Jericho and the Glock with two hundred and twelve additional 9mm rounds," Greg said flatly. "Once we get to Hawaii we can check out my place. I might still have some weapons there." Keitaro felt that he didn't really have a place in that conversation so he moved to look at the pictures on the computer.  
  
"Have you figured any of this out?" he asked.  
  
"Well there are coordinates," Seta said. "But I need a map or a GPS to figure out where they are."  
  
"Keep working on it," Greg said as he finished pulling on his BDU jacket. "I'll see about getting us to port."  
  
(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)  
  
"There it is." Keitaro looked out of the boat's window and stared at the approaching land.  
  
"Which island is it?" he asked.  
  
"Kauai," Greg said. "You speak any English?"  
  
"Yes," Keitaro asked. "It takes me a minute to translate in my head though."  
  
"That's fine," Greg said with a dismissing wave. He picked up the boat's radio handset and brought it to his lips. "Harry?"  
  
"Who wants to know?"  
  
"He doesn't sound to friendly," Keitaro whispered.  
  
"He's an asshole," Greg said. Then his language switched to English. "Hey Harry, it's Kelekolio."  
  
"Hey Kelek," the man said over the radio. "Something wrong?"  
  
"Yeah," Greg said. "I've got a boat here with about a million dollars worth of electronic equipment on it that I'm looking to sell with no questions asked."  
  
"Interesting," the man said. "Bring it into port. Don't worry about the harbor master."  
  
"Over and out," Greg said. He hung the handset back up and turned the steering wheel slightly.  
  
"What's a Kelekolio?" Keitaro asked.  
  
"Its my nickname," Greg said, switching back to Japanese. "Somebody told me that it's Hawaiian for Gregory, but I have no clue." The door opened and Seta burst in.  
  
"I've translated most of the text," he declared excitedly.  
  
"Well?" Keitaro prodded.  
  
"It's all about some kind of super weapon," Seta said. "But that doesn't make sense."  
  
"Why not?" Greg asked.  
  
"The lost turtle civilization of the Pararaklese Islands was supposed to be extremely peaceful," Keitaro said.  
  
"The only way to keep a lasting peace is with the threat of violence," Greg said tiredly. "If you have a big weapon to back you up, so much the better."  
  
"So you think that peace reigned in the Turtle Civilization because anyone who didn't like the peace was too scared to speak up?" Seta asked.  
  
"It was that way in the USSR," Greg said with a shrug. "I don't see why it couldn't have been that way back then as well."  
  
"That theory may rewrite history," Seta said calmly.  
  
"Doesn't matter to me," Greg said with a shrug.  
  
(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)  
  
Greg looked around the port and watched as a dozen men lined up on one of the docks to tie up the boat. "Hey Keitaro?"  
  
"Yeah?" the young man asked.  
  
"You ever use a gun?" Greg asked.  
  
"No," Keitaro said, looking surprised. Greg picked up the Glock and held it out to the young man.  
  
"This is the safety," he began. "Move it like this and you can shoot. Move it like this and you can't shoot." Keitaro took the black handgun uncertainly and tucked it securely into his waistband. Greg nodded and threw the boat into reversed as the dock came up on the port side. The men leapt skillfully aboard and tied the boat to the dock. "Let's get going," Greg said as he grabbed the rope handle on one of the ends of the long wooden box he had salvaged from the plane.  
  
"I'm ready," Keitaro added as he picked up the other end.  
  
"You Kelekolio?" one of the men grunted.  
  
"You work for Harry?" Greg countered in English.  
  
"Yes we do," the man said.  
  
"I'm Kelek." Greg climbed over the edge of the boat and dropped down onto the dock on the other side. He quickly helped Keitaro over and watched as Seta skillfully leapt from the boat to the dock.  
  
"Hey Kelek!" Greg turned and saw his over-weight friend walking towards him.  
  
"Hi Harry," Greg said as he set down his end of the box. "One million dollars."  
  
"Pardon?" Harry asked.  
  
"One million dollars," Greg repeated. "This boat is worth about five million, but I'm selling it for one million dollars."  
  
"He's right sir," one of the men called. "All these electronics would cost about three million and then there would be one or two million for the boat itself."  
  
"That's still quite a bit of money," Harry said, his eyes narrowing.  
  
"Buy it from me for one million dollars, sell it on the market for five million dollars, and make a four million dollar profit," Greg said flatly. "Of course you'd probably boost the price up."  
  
"That's true," Harry said thoughtfully. "Have you removed your belongings?"  
  
"Anything left in there is yours," Greg said.  
  
"It will take some time to get that kind of money together," Harry said. "Come back this time tomorrow."  
  
"Deal," Greg said as he shifted the box so he could hold out his right hand.  
  
"Deal," Harry said as he took Greg's hand and shook it.  
  
"Let's get going," Greg said.  
  
(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)  
  
"Do you think there's a fax machine somewhere in this place?" Keitaro asked as he looked around the small city. "Where are we anyway?"  
  
"We're in Port Allen," Greg said. "And yes there is a fax machine here somewhere. Do you need to call someone?"  
  
"Yeah," Keitaro said. "If I don't come up with a good cover story then the girls will come looking for me."  
  
"Girls?" Greg asked as he led them into a small restaurant.  
  
"I'm the land lord of a girl's dormitory," Keitaro explained.  
  
"That must be hell," Greg said as he set down his end of the box and collapsed into a chair  
  
"It is," Keitaro said with a nod. "You're the only man I've ever met who seems to understand that." He laid the box down and sat down at the table next to Greg.  
  
"You want your usual Kelekolio?" someone called.  
  
"Make that two," Greg called back. "That's Nikolo," he added for Keitaro's benefit. "Give him your message and the fax number."  
  
"Alright," Keitaro said. "You have any paper?" Greg turned and plucked a sheet of paper from another table and laid it out.  
  
"Try to keep it brief and vague," Greg added. Keitaro nodded and quickly scribbled out his message.  
  
"I'll just tell them that Seta dragged me off to a dig again and I might not be back really soon," he explained.  
  
"Again?" Greg asked. "Seta's done that to you before?"  
  
"Once," Keitaro said dryly. "Only last time a fishing pole wasn't involved."  
  
"Did I ever apologize for that?" Greg asked.  
  
"I think so," Keitaro said. "Have you seen Seta?"  
  
"He wanted to check something out," Greg said simply. "He wouldn't tell me what that was exactly, though." A young man with blond hair walked up to the table and set down two bottles.  
  
"Been a while since I last saw you here Kelek," he said in English.  
  
"I've been out of town Nikolo," Greg said, switching to English with a speed that Keitaro could only envy. "My friend here has something he needs faxed."  
  
"I'll get right to it." Keitaro handed the man the paper and watched as he walked away.  
  
"Cheers," Greg said, holding up his bottle. Keitaro held up his bottle in salute and took a long drink. He sputtered as the liquid burned a path down his throat. "Good stuff eh?" Greg asked weakly. Keitaro looked up and saw tears in Greg's eyes.  
  
"Really good," he managed. "What is it?"  
  
"To hell if I know," Greg said, his voice still sounding like a whisper. "Nikolo makes it himself." He tilted his bottle back and took another long drink. Keitaro stared at his own bottle and brought it to his lips. He tilted his head back and took another long drink. He set it down and watched as Greg stood up.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"To my shack," Greg said. "I'm going to see if anything useful is left there." He turned and waved at Nikolo. "Is it alright if I leave my junk here?" he asked, kicking the box from the plane.  
  
"Go ahead," Nikolo called.  
  
"Just stay here and wait for Seta," Greg added. "You can ask Nikolo about directions later."  
  
"Alright," Keitaro said as he sipped at his bottle.  
  
(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)  
  
"This is a really nice place," Keitaro said as he looked around the moonlit beach.  
  
"Hard to believe that Greg has a house on this land," Seta said. "This property must have cost a fortune." Keitaro watched as a small one-level house came into view.  
  
"Is that Greg's place?" he asked.  
  
"That's it," Seta said.  
  
"It looks like it was hit by a hurricane," Keitaro said.  
  
"I hit it with my van," Seta said sheepishly. "I was trying to read a road map and my van must have left the road." Keitaro was about to speak when a light somewhere in the palm trees snapped on.  
  
"Freeze!" Keitaro jerked around in surprise and winced as bullets stitched the sand by his feet. "I said freeze!" Keitaro promptly froze where he was standing. Three men in combat gear stormed out of the trees. One of them had a sub-machinegun and the other two had semi-auto pistols. Suddenly four thunderous shots rang out. Keitaro turned and saw Greg sprinting from his house. In his hand he held a massive revolver. One of the soldiers went down and there were two more shots. The second soldier hit the ground screaming and the third started to bring up his pistol. Keitaro grabbed for the weapon on his belt and brought it up. The third soldier turned back and Keitaro saw his eyes widen as he aimed. Keitaro pulled the trigger the third soldier jerked back as a single holed was drilled in his skull. Keitaro watched as the black-clad man fell to the ground without a twitch. "I just killed someone."  
  
"You had to," Greg said roughly as he snapped his revolver's cylinder back into place. He moved to the second soldier. "Who sent you?"  
  
"Kill me," the man groaned.  
  
"Alright." Keitaro looked away and winced as a gunshot shattered the quiet night. "We have to get out of here," Greg said. "You have the location?"  
  
"Its in Germany," Seta said.  
  
"To Germany it is," Greg said with a nod.  
  
"You just killed him," Keitaro accused quietly.  
  
"It's them or us," Greg said simply. "I have a few more things left to do, so I can't die yet."  
  
"You use that to justify what you do," Keitaro said.  
  
"Yes," Greg said as he opened the box Keitaro and Seta had been carrying. He shoved a small bag inside. "Do you want to leave?"  
  
"Yes I do," Keitaro said.  
  
"Get going," Greg said. "No one's stopping you." There were several minutes of silenced before Keitaro spoke.  
  
"I want to leave, but I can't," he said quietly.  
  
"Then you're stuck with us," Seta said cheerfully. "Now all we have to do is figure out how to get to Germany."  
  
-End  
  
(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)  
  
-Author's notes. This is probably the shortest chapter I have every written. Oh well. This was just a bridge between chapters anyway.


	3. Chapter 03

I don't own anything.

Keitaro's Big Adventure

Chapter Three

"He's been really quiet," Greg said as he watched Keitaro sit in the corner and practice disassembling his Glock.

"He's not you," Seta said. "He's not someone who can kill and destroy without a thought."

"It's a gift," Greg said tiredly, but he picked up his Jericho and holstered it on his hip. "How are you doing Keitaro?"

"I can get it together in less then five minutes now," Keitaro said.

"That's pretty good," Greg said with a nod. "We're getting pretty close to the drop site."

"Outside of Stuttgart?" Keitaro asked.

"Right," Greg answered. "A little town outside of Stuttgart. Once we get there we can head to the archaeological dig."

"So what time are we going to land?" Keitaro asked.

"Land?" Greg asked.

"Yeah," Keitaro said slowly. "That's when the plane slows down and lands on a runway."

"Who said anything about landing?" Greg asked. He turned and tugged out a black pack from a gear locker.

"We're parachuting?" Keitaro croaked.

"Yup," Greg said, his face almost glowing. "Low altitude at night. This is going to be a rush."

"But," Keitaro began.

"Seta said you've parachuted before," Greg said.

"It was only once," Keitaro stammered. "I can't even remember it that well!"

"Well don't worry," Greg said. "We're using the top of the line. These chutes will automatically deploy at a preset height. All you have to do is remember to roll when you hit the ground, or you'll break your legs."

"What?" Keitaro shrieked.

"It won't kill you," Greg said with a dismissing wave. He glanced at his watch. "Time to get suited up."

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"Oh my God," Keitaro whimpered as he looked out of the plane's open door.

"Its not that high," Greg said as he stepped up to the door and leaned out. He pulled himself back in and grinned at them. "I love these old planes. You couldn't stick you're head out in any modern cargo plane."

"Old?" Keitaro said.

"Very old," Greg said. "This is a C-47. They used them back in World War II."

"We flew a vintage World War II aircraft over the Atlantic ocean?" Keitaro demanded.

"This plane has extra fuel tanks," Greg explained. "We fueled twice in America, so we were fine."

"Is the pilot left over from World War II as well?" Keitaro asked. He wasn't sure he really wasn't to know.

"Yup," Greg answered as he checked Keitaro's straps carefully. "Now stop being such a big baby."

"I'm not being a big baby," Keitaro said. "I just don't think jumping out of a plane is a good idea." Greg looked up and grinned broadly.

"You're right! There is something extremely wrong with jumping out a perfectly good airplane."

"Time to jump," Seta said as he adjusted the straps securing the MP5 to his leg. He pulled down a pair of goggles and calmly walked out of the open door.

"I'm not jumping!" Keitaro declared wildly.

"You're jumping or I'm going to throw you out of the plane," Greg said as he eyes narrowed.

"You wouldn't dare!" Keitaro shouted. Greg lunged and in a few seconds Keitaro was falling through the night sky over Germany. 'I'm never going to say that to him again,' Keitaro thought dizzily as everything went dark, well darker.

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"Good thing he passed out," Greg commented as he prodded Keitaro's still body with his boot. "If he was awake he'd probably have been hurt."

"You threw him out of the plane," Seta said accusingly.

"Uh huh," Greg grunted as he pulled his parachute pack off. They had landed in a rather large forest and his chute had been shredded. He un-slung his M21 and set it down. "Get your gear off. We need to bury it."

"Right," Seta said. "Are we going to cache the weapons?"

"No," Greg answered. "I don't want to be without my rifle right now."

"Right."

"Where am I?" Greg turned and saw Keitaro sit up.

"Hey sleeping beauty. You're on the ground."

"Did I jump?" Keitaro asked.

"Yes," Greg answered. "You just walked right out the door."

"Oh," Keitaro said dazedly. "Cool."

"Yeah," Greg said. "You did a great job." He looked at Seta and shrugged. "Let's get going." Keitaro took the offered hand and Greg helped him to his feet.

"So what are the plans exactly?" Seta asked.

"We're about fifty miles from the dig," Greg explained. "We cache the chutes and head into town. From there we catch a cab to the dig. You can get us in, right?"

"Probably," Seta said. "If the researchers there know anything about archeology in the Pacific then they'll know me."

"Cool," Greg admitted. "Let's cache this gear, get the guns in the duffels, and get going."

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

Seta watched as Greg and the cab driver spoke quickly. Greg nodded to the man and turned back to Seta and Keitaro. "We're here."

"That's good," Seta said as he pushed the door open. He had just woken up after the half-hour drive. Keitaro climbed out after him and Greg quickly paid the cabby. He was apparently very generous on the tip because the cab driver sputtered his thanks several times. That was one of the few Germany phrases that Seta knew off the top of his head. Greg grabbed the duffel bag out of the trunk and the cab sped away.

"So this is the dig?" Keitaro asked as he inspected the fenced in area.

"Yeah," Seta answered as he looked around. He could tell from the pattern of the digging that the man running this place was very professional. As they approached the gate the security guard looked up and called something out in German. Greg answered and the guard reached for a phone in his little booth. A moment later a young woman in blue jeans and a T-shirt walked up to the gate from one of the temporary buildings inside. She asked something in German and Seta heard his name. Greg answered and she smiled at Seta.

"I am Doctor Anna Reese," she said in flawless English. "It is a pleasure to meet you Mister Noriyasu."

"The pleasure is all mine," Seta said as he shook her hand. "Are you in charge of this dig?"

"I am indeed," Anna said as she led them through the security gate. "I've actually been trying to contact you. I noticed that some of the things we've been finding here are similar to those you found in the Pararaklese Islands."

"That's why we're here," Seta said. He realized that he hadn't bothered to introduce either of his companions. "Forgive my manners. This is my assistant Keitaro Urashima and my associate Gregory Tyler." Greg shook her hand and Keitaro managed to stumble over a random piece of digging equipment lying on the ground. His face collided with the doctor's bosom.

"Pervert!" Seta watched absently as Keitaro soared through the air. He landed and a geyser of blood erupted from his head. "Oh my God!"

"He's fine," Greg said dismissingly. "What I really want to know is where that pick ax came from." Anna looked at the tool in her hand and her head tilted to one side.

"Where did this come from?"

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"You are sure you're okay," Anna repeated. Greg watched as Keitaro nodded.

"I'm fine," he said cheerfully. "Do you have any Aspirin?"

"Oh, of course!" the Germany scientist said as she scurried away to find the life-giving pain reducer. After Keitaro's little stunt Anna had led them into one of the small temporary structures housing excavated artifacts.

"There are better ways of showing that you are interested in someone," Greg whispered. Color flooded Keitaro's cheeks.

"It was an accident!"

"I know," Greg said with a chuckle. "So was the pick ax going four inches into your skull." Greg turned and glanced at Seta. He was giddily inspecting the artifacts that had been laid out. Anna came back in with a first aid kit.

"Let me have a look at your head."

"It's no problem," Keitaro said. "I just have a headache."

"Men," Anna said in annoyance. "Always have to be so damned macho." Greg stood up so that the doctor could sit on the couch next to Keitaro and check his head. "Incredible. There doesn't seem to be any lasting damage."

"I told you I was fine," Keitaro said. He took a pair of Aspirin and stood up. "I want to go have a look around the dig."

"I'll come with you," Greg said. "He's starting to creep me out," he added, jerking a thumb at Seta who was giggling like a schoolgirl. Keitaro nodded and pushed the door open. Greg watch in minor amusement as Anna checked out Keitaro's ass and then followed his friend outside.

"What a nice woman."

"She hit you with a pick ax," Greg commented. "And she was checking you out."

"Yeah right," Keitaro said.

"Has your self esteem always been this bad?" Greg asked as he followed Keitaro towards some trenches. "This place looks like a World War I battle field."

"Well it wouldn't do much good to just dig a big hole," Keitaro said. "Trenches are just better."

"If you say so," Greg said. "This is your specialty." There was a loud pop and Greg spun around.

"What was that?" Keitaro asked.

"My specialty," Greg answered as he drew his Jericho.

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

Keitaro watched carefully as several men in black assault gear moved through the excavation sight. "Same guys?"

"Oh yeah," Greg said. He finished screwing a suppressor onto his pistol. They were both crouched down in one of the trenches. "My rifle is back with Seta."

"I know," Keitaro said as he clutched his Glock tightly. "How did these guys know where we were heading?"

"Maybe they managed to find something at one of the previous digs," Greg said. "Quiet." Keitaro pressed himself harder into the dirt as a pair of men walked by overhead.

"Freeze!" one of them barked. Keitaro looked up and found himself staring down the barrel of a sub-machinegun. He looked around desperately, but Greg was gone. "Drop your weapon!" Keitaro's Glock dropped from trembling fingers. There was a loud pop and one of the soldiers fell to the ground. The other one stood frozen. Greg had gotten behind them and now had the second one in a chokehold. He holstered his Jericho and twisted the man's neck sharply. He dropped to his knees and fell into the trench next to Keitaro.

"Where the hell did you go?" Keitaro demanded, his voice breaking slightly.

"Sorry," Greg offered as he kneeled down and drew a pistol from the first man's vest. He offered the suppressed pistol to Keitaro. "We need to be quiet." He kneeled down and picked up one of the sub-machineguns. Keitaro quickly picked up the second man's sub-machinegun. He had no real clue how to use it, but Greg had used their captured weapon to show him the ropes.

"How many people are here?"

"Eighteen," Greg said. "Now," he added, kicking the second man's body into the trench. "They're pretty spread out, so we should be able to take them out."

"I can't take on trained soldiers," Keitaro said.

"You're becoming hysterical," Greg said. Suddenly he jumped into the trench and shoved Keitaro down. Then he heard someone speaking. The voices drew nearer and Keitaro looked up to see two men standing on the edge of the trench. Greg pressed a hand over Keitaro's mouth and raised his pistol. Keitaro swung his new sub-machinegun up. Greg fired and Keitaro's finger jerked the trigger out of shock more then anything. Luckily the weapon was set on semi-auto. The two soldiers above collapsed and tumbled into the trench. Keitaro moaned in disgust as one of the bodies fell onto him. Greg muscled the dead man aside and stood up.

"So," Keitaro said, noting absently that his hands were shaking. "What language were they speaking?"

"Italian," Greg answered. "The shots from before drew them to us."

"Okay," Keitaro said, nodding rapidly.

"Let's go," Greg said. Keitaro was mildly annoyed by the way the other man's voice didn't waver.

"Right."

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"Who are they?" Anna demanded as she stared out of the window.

"Terrorists," Seta said as he drew the slide back on his tiny .380 pistol. "They're here because of us. I'm sorry Anna."

"What do you mean?" Anna demanded.

"They have been following us since I made a discovery in Hawaii," Seta explained. "I don't know anything more then that."

"What about Keitaro and Greg?" Anna asked.

"If they're alive then they're causing hell," Seta said absently. He wasn't too worried. Greg was smart enough to keep himself and Keitaro alive. Seta's eyes fell on the bag that Greg had left and he quickly snatched it up. He pulled out the sub-machinegun and loaded a magazine into it.

"An archaeologist with guns?" Anna asked incredulously. Suddenly the door burst open and Seta found himself looking down two sub-machinegun muzzles.

"Hi."

"Hey," Greg answered. He slung the sub-machinegun over his shoulder and dug his M21 out of the duffel bag. He slapped a magazine into it and shouldered it. "Stay here."

"But," Keitaro began to say.

"Stay," Greg barked sharply. He un-slung his sub-machinegun and moved cautiously out the door.

"Don't worry," Seta said. "He's been doing this for years." Keitaro winced slightly as several pops went off nearby.

"Can't we call someone?" he demanded.

"Like who?" Seta asked. "These are heavily armed terrorists."

"The Bundeswehr!" Anna said. "I can call the cops and they can contact the Bundeswehr!"

"The what?" Keitaro asked.

"The German army," Anna said. "We can call the German army!"

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"Well this is familiar."

"Shut up and tell them that I'm with you," Greg growled. The handcuffs were starting to dig into his wrist.

"I don't speak German," Seta said. "Unfortunately for you."

"Do I have to give you a hands of demonstration of how to kill someone without the use of your hands?" Greg growled. He doubted that he would even get close with all the army grunts milling around. Anna finally stepped forward and explained the situation to the soldiers. They grudgingly let Greg go and gave him back his Jericho.

"So who's bright idea was it to call in the Bundeswehr?"

"Mine," Anna said. "I am sorry for the mix up."

"Its fine," Greg said absently. "Did you find what we need?"

"Yes," Seta said. "We're heading to Israel!"

"Did you at least manage to get my M21?" Greg asked.

"Keitaro has it." Greg looked around and spotted the young man examining something in the trenches.

"When did you start carrying that thing anyway?" he asked absently. Seta patted the tiny pistol under his shirt and grinned.

"It was a present," he explained.

"To yourself," Greg said dryly. "So why did you get James Bond's gun?"

"What do you mean?" Seta asked.

"I just thought you'd prefer a Webley revolver," Greg continued. "You know, Indiana Jones's handgun."

"So that's what it is," Seta said. "Let's go part timer!"

"Where?" Keitaro asked as he pulled himself out of the trench and walked over to them.

"Israel," Greg said. "We're going to Israel."

"What's in Israel?" Anna asked.

"The next clue," Seta said.

"Zoinks," Greg said dryly. He frowned at the blank stares he was getting. "Hasn't anyone here seen Scooby Doo?"

"Of course," Seta said. "We're from Japan, not Mars. I just can't picture you sitting around watching cartoons."

"Neither can I," Greg said dryly. "At least now that I don't have a living room anymore."

"You didn't have one to begin with," Seta argued. "That hut had one room!"

"It had three," Greg shot back.

"Here we go," Keitaro grumbled.

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"I got a fax!" Naru stared at the piece of paper and frowned. "That inconsiderate idiot!"

"What's wrong?" Motoko asked.

"Keitaro took off globe hopping with Seta again!" Naru exclaimed as she threw the paper up into the air and stormed out of the room. Motoko caught it absently.

"Don't worry. I am fine. Seta just kidnapped me again. I'll try to be home pretty soon. Please tell my professors that I probably won't be there for a while."

"What's all the screaming about?" Kitsune asked.

"Urashima finally deemed it necessary to tell us that he was okay," Motoko answered angrily.

-End

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

-Author's notes. Sorry this one took so long to get out.


	4. Chapter 04

I don't own anything.

Keitaro's Big Adventure

Chapter Four

"So," Keitaro began.

"Yes?" Greg asked as he continued to reassemble his M21.

"Are we actually going to land this time?" Keitaro asked. 'Please no more parachuting.'

"Yup," Greg said. "Do you archaeologists globe trot like this normally?"

"You'd be surprised," Seta said. "I've been almost everywhere on the planet because of my work."

"What do you think will be in Israel?" Keitaro asked.

"No clue," Greg answered. "But I can pick up spare parts for my Jericho while we're there."

"You can?" Keitaro asked. "They make those in Israel?"

"Yeah," Greg said. "They're made by Israeli Military Industries."

"Oh," Keitaro said. He glanced out of the window of the old C-47 and yawned. "What about my gun?"

"Glocks are made in Austria," Greg said.

"Oh," Keitaro said. "I'm going to take a nap."

"Go right ahead," Greg said. "You haven't slept in about thirty hours."

"Really?" That took Keitaro by surprise. I didn't seem like thirty hours had gone by since his nap when they were flying over the Atlantic. He looked around for a moment and finally just collapsed on the plane's slightly vibrating metal floor. He suddenly felt extremely tired.

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"So what have you got?" Greg watched as Seta hunted through the papers spread out in front of him and finally pulled one out.

"The new coordinates will take us to an ancient building here," he explained. "It was converted to a synagogue several years ago. The building is extremely old, but I don't know why the people who gave us the directions would have known about it."

"Maybe there was something there before the building was built," Greg suggested.

"That's possible," Seta said. "But that would mean that the next sight is buried under a building. Maybe you could. . ."

"I'm not going to blow up a house of worship," Greg interrupted quickly. "You can rot in hell Seta."

"I would never ask you to blow up a synagogue," Seta said in indignation.

"Sure," Greg said. "We'll just figure out what to do when we get there."

"Right," Seta said. "We'll do it on the fly!"

"I wouldn't be that proud about it," Greg said dryly, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"You like to plan too much," Seta said. "Haven't you ever done something spontaneous?" Greg was badly tempted to draw his Jericho and do something really spontaneous, but he kept his temper in check.

"No."

"Too much planning makes life boring," Seta complained.

"And long," Greg said. "A nice long boring life. Which was what I had before you drove a van into my house!"

"Sorry," Seta said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"Wake up Keitaro." Keitaro groaned and opened his eyes tiredly.

"Go away Greg. I'm tired."

"You've slept for three hours," Greg said dryly. "That's long enough. Now get up."

"Fine," Keitaro groaned he sat up and looked around the inside of the plane. "Did we land?"

"A minute ago," Greg said. "Seta is talking with the customs officer. Do you have your passport?"

"Uh huh," Keitaro said as he tugged the identification out of his pants pocket. "Good thing I shoved it in the box before we went diving in the Pacific."

"Really," Greg said with a nod. "Is there a reason that you just happened to be carrying your passport when we grabbed you?"

"I told you," Keitaro said. "This is the second time Seta has just grabbed me and dragged me to another country. I've always had my passport on me since that first time."

"Oh," Greg said. An older man climbed onto the plane and Keitaro quickly gave him his passport. The man stamped it and handed it back. He took Greg's and did the same before leaving. "Nice guy."

"Really." Greg picked up the duffel bag containing the M21 and the MP5. Keitaro followed after him and stepped out into the harsh sunlight.

"I wonder how much it cost to get through customs so easily," Keitaro said.

"Probably too much," Greg growled. "Here." Keitaro looked up and stared at the black cylinder in Greg's hand.

"What's that?"

"It's a suppressor," Greg explained. "I got it back in Germany." Keitaro took the noise-dampening device gratefully and tucked it into his pocket.

"Come on you two!" Seta called. "I just got our rental!"

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"This place is pretty nice," Greg said as he looked around the synagogue. When they had found the building, after a fairly psychotic drive that explained how Seta drove a van through Greg's house, they had discovered that the building had been closed for renovations. "Any luck yet?"

"No!" Keitaro's voice answered from the stairs that led down to the catacombs. Greg sighed and stretched tiredly. He glanced at the pews. They were starting to look pretty damn comfortable. He set down the heavy duffel containing both the MP5 and the M21 and sat down heavily in one of the long, wooden benches.

"Much better." He looked around the synagogue again. There were several large scaffoldings set up where people had been working on the molding around the windows. 'Those would be an excellent position to get the drop on anyone coming in,' Greg thought.

"Any problems?" Greg whipped around and found out that he was pointing his suppressed Jericho at Keitaro.

"Don't do that."

"Sorry," Keitaro said. "Can you put the gun away now?" Greg took a deep breath and slipped his weapon into the holster under his left arm.

"So what's going on down there?" Greg asked.

"Seta thinks he found something," Keitaro said. "I thought I'd come up and tell you."

"What did he find?" Greg asked.

"Some inscriptions behind a wall," Keitaro said.

"You're tearing down the walls of a house of worship?" Greg demanded.

"Some of the wall was already knocked down!" Keitaro said quickly. "We think the renovators did it."

"Fine," Greg said suspiciously. He paused and looked around the synagogue. 'I've got a bad feeling.'

"What's wrong?" Keitaro asked. Greg ignored him and tugged his bag open. He thrust his M21 into Keitaro's hands and pushed him towards the stairs. "What's wrong?" Keitaro demanded.

"They're here," Greg said simply. He tugged the MP-5 out of the bag and checked the suppressor screwed onto the barrel as he walked towards a ladder on one of the scaffoldings. He pushed a magazine into the weapon and slapped the charging handle on top of close the chamber on the first round.

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"Hello?" Naru asked as she held the phone to her head.

"Naru?" It was Haruka Urashima. 'Well Noriyasu now,' Naru thought with a quiet laugh.

"Hi Haruka. How are you and Sarah doing?"

"We're both fine," Haruka answered. "Is Seta there?"

"What?" Naru asked in surprise. 'Why would Seta be here? He grabbed Keitaro and skipped out of town again.'

"Is Seta there?" Haruka repeated, her annoyed voice becoming even slightly more annoyed.

"No," Naru said. "He grabbed Keitaro about two weeks ago and flew away. Is something wrong?"

"So you've seen Seta?" Haruka asked. For the first time she sounded relieved.

"Yeah," Naru said. "Now what's wrong?"

"Seta left me and Sarah here on the Pararaklese Islands and went to a dig in Hawaii," Haruka explained. "I haven't heard from him since then. That big bone-head always calls once a day when he's away from us."

"We got a fax from Keitaro," Naru said. "He said that he was traveling with Seta, but he didn't mention where. Do you think that Seta got himself into trouble with some natives again?"

"Knowing him I'm sure of it," Haruka said. "It was nice talking to you Naru."

"Call again sometime," Naru said. The phone went dead and Naru hung it up. 'I have to tell the girls.'

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

Greg took a deep breath and held it as he stared down the iron sights of his MP5. He squeezed the trigger and sent a 9mm round speeding through the head of one of the soldiers. He collapsed and Greg rolled onto his back and out of sight of the other soldiers. 'There's number three.' Below he could here them speaking. His Hebrew was pretty poor, but what they were saying wasn't exactly difficult to understand in any language. "Who's shooting?"

"Where is he?"

"Fall back! Everyone get the hell out of here." Greg rolled back into his firing position and fired once more. The soldiers were running for the door like they had no military training at all. Greg raised his MP5 and tried to get a clear headshot, but they were too far out of the door. He lined up the only shot he had and shot one of the soldiers in the ass.

"Oops," Greg muttered as he tried to keep from smirking. He stood up and quickly moved down the shaky ladder on the side of the scaffolding.

"Help me." Greg whirled and trained his sub-machinegun on one of the fallen soldiers. He had been shot in the neck. 'They didn't even take their wounded along.'

"What's your name?" Greg asked.

"They will firebomb this place," the soldier said. "It was the backup plan. Help me." Greg slung his MP5 and grabbed the shoulder straps of the man's vest. A window somewhere shattered and Greg watched as a green cylinder landed ten feet away from him and the injured man.

"Oh shit!"

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

Keitaro winched as something exploded upstairs. "What was that?" Seta said.

"I don't want to know," Keitaro said as he brought Greg's M21 to his shoulder. He could hear labored footsteps on the stairs.

"Don't you dare shoot me Keitaro!" Keitaro sighed in relief as Greg appeared at the bottom of the steps with a man thrown over his shoulder.

"Who's that?"

"The enemy," Greg said simply as he laid the man down.

"Never figured you for saving. . ." Seta trailed off as Greg slammed the poor man's head into the ground.

"Who do you work for?" he demanded sharply.

"He can't answer the question with a concussion," Seta said. Greg ignored him and slammed the man's head again.

"I don't ask twice."

"The Bernardelli Family," the man groaned.

"When did Anthony Bernardelli become interested in archaeology?" Greg asked rhetorically.

"There was a coup," the man said. "Joseph Bernardelli took control of the family."

"Oh shit," Greg moaned. "Wonderful."

"We need to get out of here," Seta said.

"Not that way," Greg said tiredly. "The synagogue is on fire."

"They set the place on fire?" Seta asked in complete shock. "What the hell is wrong with you people?"

"He won't answer," Greg said as he fished a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. "He died a minute ago."

"We're about to die from either being burned alive or from smoke inhalation and your smoking?" Keitaro demanded shrilly. Was he insane or was Greg taking this too calmly.

"So what have you figured out?" Greg asked.

"I think there is something behind this wall," Seta said as he pointed to a portion of the wall that had been behind the synagogue's wall. "But I don't know how to get at it."

"I do," Greg said. He walked to the dead soldier and began to unbuckle the man's vest.

"What on Earth are you doing?" Seta asked. Greg held up a small package wrapped in tape for an answer. "What is that?"

"Half a pound of C4," Greg said. He pulled on the man's vest and picked up his weapon. "Take this." Keitaro took the MP5 and watched as Greg slung the soldier's assault rifle over his shoulder.

"Can we use it without killing ourselves?" Seta asked.

"I use to use this stuff all the time," Greg said.

"Use to?" Keitaro asked.

"It's like riding a bike," Greg said dismissively.

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"This is incredible," Seta murmured as he looked around the stone passage in awe.

"Yeah," Greg said. "It worked."

"No I mean this passage," Seta said.

"What you mean 'it worked'?" Keitaro demanded.

"I wasn't too sure that I would be able to pull it off," Greg said cheerfully. "It's been a while since I got the chance to play around with high explosives. How far have we gone?"

"About fifty meters," Seta said. "At a downward angle."

"I see something," Greg said. He increased his place and disappeared from the light of their flashlights. "You've got to see this!"

"What?" Keitaro asked, breaking into a sprint. In a matter of seconds he found himself in a massive room. He flipped off his flashlight and looked around the room in flickering candle light.

"Start reading," Greg said. "What is this place?"

"I have no idea," Seta said. "This is a great archaeological find!"

"So make with the finding," Greg said. "We aren't down here for our health."

"Actually we are," Keitaro said. "The other way would have put us in an inferno." Greg grinned broadly and began laughing.

"Good one Part-Timer," Seta added.

"It does bring up the question of how we're going to get out of here," Keitaro said.

"I have a plan," Greg said dismissively.

"You do?" Keitaro asked.

"Yeah," Greg said. "We still have a quarter of a pound of C4."

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"That was disgusting."

"I've been in worse," Greg said simply. "You should try crawling around the sewers of France. Now that's awful. Actually we were pretty damn lucky that the sewer ran right next to the chamber."

"You call that lucky?" Keitaro shrieked. Greg nodded and worked on jamming their weapons back into the duffel bag.

"Where are we going now anyway?" he asked absently.

"Egypt," Seta answered.

"Egypt?" Greg asked. "Well that's conveniently close."

"Yeah," Seta said positively. "Now we just have to figure out how to get through customs with all these weapons."

"Leave it to me," Greg said as he peeled off his tactical vest. "I'm going to go hose out my vest."

"Thank God," Seta said. "You smell like crap."

"You're not exactly walking on roses," Greg shot back.

"You two are out of your minds," Keitaro said as he sat down and began to rock back and forth. "I could be sitting in my room right now waiting for some random beautiful woman to break down my door and beat the shit out of me."

"Is he okay?" Seta asked nervously.

"He's fine," Greg said with a dismissive wave. "A nervous break down every once in a while is healthy."

"Really?" Seta asked.

"Never hurt me."

-End

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

-Author's notes. Not as many gags in this one, but it did move the story along. Well now the enemy has a name. I'll try to use the summer to get more chapters written.


	5. Chapter 05

I don't own anything.

Keitaro's Big Adventure

Chapter Five

"Do you know how long it will be before we can see the Great Pyramids?"

"Not that long," Greg answered. "Now calm down. It looks bad when you act like a schoolboy."

"Sorry," Keitaro said. He quietly sat down and leaned back against the side of the van.

"Jeez," Greg grumbled as he checked the chamber of his assault rifle. "That wasn't even an insult and you act like a scolded child." Keitaro laughed tiredly.

"I guess so."

"That's better," Greg said. "You sound like a man."

"Fine." Greg chuckled and sat up so that he could reach behind him. He drew a small black pistol and held it out. "What's that?"

"Any good gunmen knows to carry a backup," Greg said. "You just didn't know that. I picked this up back in Israel." Keitaro took it carefully and examined it.

"Is this a Glock?"

"Yeah," Greg said. "It's a Glock 19, a smaller version of your Glock 17. It only carried fifteen rounds though."

"Thanks," Keitaro said as he ejected the pistol's magazine and drew the chamber back. It was getting easier to check weapons. At first he had been terrified that it would go off in his face, but that thought no longer bothered him.

"So what are you going to do when this is all over?" Greg asked.

"I'm going back to the Pararaklese Islands," Seta said cheerfully.

"Shut up and keep your eyes on the road!" Greg roared. Seta quickly turned and stopped talking. "I, unlike you two, can not walk away from a head on collision!"

"Calm down," Keitaro said. Greg glared at him for a moment and then leaned back against the side of the van.

"You people are insane," he managed to growl. "So what are you going to do?"

"I guess I'll just go back to the Hina Dorms," Keitaro said.

"You don't sound thrilled," Greg noted dryly.

"So?" Keitaro asked.

"So don't do something if you don't want to do it," Greg said. "Never let yourself be forced into anything."

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"Where on Earth are you going?" Kitsune asked as she watched Naru shove clothes into a suitcase. The younger woman spun around quickly and tried to hide the suitcase behind her.

"I'm just going to visit my sister," she said quickly.

"You're going after Keitaro," Kitsune said.

"Why would I chase that pervert down?" Naru asked, shaking her head vehemently. "He obviously doesn't care enough to write us."

"Don't you dare think you're going anywhere without me," Kitsune said.

"I'm not going after him," Naru insisted. The door slid open and Kitsune stared at the other inhabitants of the Hina Dorm.

"Don't forget us," Shinobu said.

"So where are we going to start?" Kitsune asked.

"Hawaii," Naru said finally. "Kauai. Haruka said that was where Seta was digging."

"Then off we go!" Kitsune declared dramatically.

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"This place is amazing," Keitaro said as he looked around the city. "I never thought Cairo would be like this."

"It is a pretty nice place," Greg said. "I was here a couple of years ago. Where are we meeting your friend?"

"In a bar," Seta said, touching his left side.

"Stop that," Greg growled. "You keep doing that and everyone with a little experience will know you're armed."

"I'm not used to carrying around such a big gun," Seta said in his defense. Greg had given him the handgun that had been in the vest he had taken. The pistol really was very big, even bigger then Keitaro's Glock 17.

"Get used to it," Greg growled. "So where's the bar?"

"It's right there," Seta said, pointing behind Greg. The light-haired man turned and stared at the place.

"Oh. Why didn't you say so?"

"I did," Seta said as he quickly walked across the street. Keitaro and Greg followed.

"Seta!" Keitaro looked up and saw a rather beautiful woman waving at them.

"This isn't going to end well," Greg said dryly.

"What do you mean?" Keitaro asked.

"Keep you're hands to yourself," Greg suggested.

"Right," Keitaro said, remembering his greetings back in Germany and just about every room of the Hina Dorms.

"It's so good to see you," the woman continued, hugging Seta. "I was so excited when you called and told me that you were coming."

"Does she know you're married?" Greg asked as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.

"Who are you?" the woman asked bluntly.

"This is my. . ." Seta trailed off.

"Bodyguard," Greg supplied.

"Bodyguard," Seta said. "Greg Tyler."

"Charmed," Greg said.

"And this is Keitaro Urashima," Seta continued. "He's my assistant."

"I'm Doctor Allison Arlington," the woman said. "It's wonderful to meet you both," the woman said.

"I'd hate to be a killjoy," Greg said. "But I believe our time here will be interrupted fairly soon."

"Right," Seta said. "Let's get going."

"Alright," Allison said. "I know exactly where you want to go, but we should rent a helicopter. It is quite a distance from here."

(::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"Now that's incredible." Seta watched as the temple of Karnack swung into view.

"Is that where we're heading?" Greg asked.

"That's it," Seta said with a nod. He leaned closer to the young man. "There are people near here. Keep it quiet."

"Right," Greg said with a nod. "We're moving with night fall?"

"Yeah."

"That's in only a couple of hours," Greg said.

"So?"

"We'll need some sort of NVD," Greg said. "Or do you really think we ditched the Bernardelli family?"

"Didn't you buy something like that in Israel?" Seta asked.

"I bought a weapon sight," Greg hissed. "I am not going to continually walk around with my eye pressed to a scope. You just keep your mind on the old stuff and I'll keep mine on keeping us alive."

"What are you two whispering about?" Allison asked.

"Equipment troubles," Greg said. "It's no problem."

"You sure?" Keitaro asked.

"I'm sure," Greg said. "I need to talk to you when we land." The pilot said something quickly.

"He says that we'll be landing soon," Allison explained.

"Good," Seta said. "We're anxious to be on the ground." He watched as the helicopter swung in low over a small airport. "How long is the drive to the temple?"

"Ten minutes," Allison answered. "Why are you so antsy? You never seemed to be in a rush before."

"I'm not in a rush," Seta said quickly. "I'm just excited. I'd like to examine the temple as soon as possible."

"Oh."

"I've got the directions," Greg said. "I'm going to do a little shopping. I'll catch up with you before night fall."

"I'll come with you," Keitaro offered.

"Fine."

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"So what are we looking for?" Keitaro asked as he watched Greg examine different stores.

"Ammunition and some sort of NVD," he answered.

"Why would we need night vision?" Keitaro asked.

"We're trying to keep a low profile," Greg said. "I thought night vision would be better then mounting a light on our weapons. This might do."

"This?" Keitaro asked as he looked up at the store. "What will it do?" Greg ignored him and walked into the store. Keitaro followed after him and looked around as Greg talked with the proprietor.

"Keitaro?"

"Yeah?" Keitaro asked.

"Come on." He turned and saw Greg walked into a backroom. He quickly followed him.

"Does every store have a back room full of weapons?" Keitaro asked in amazement as he looked around.

"You'd be surprised," Greg said as he examined an old bolt-action rifle. "Beautiful."

"I thought you said we were after ammunition and NVDs," Keitaro said.

"I was just looking," Greg said as he set the rifle down. "Most of this stuff is pretty old, but he said that he might have some ammo and magazines." The old man reappeared from somewhere and set down a large bag. Greg flipped it open and sorted through here. "Come here."

"What?" Keitaro asked as he kneeled down next to Greg.

"Look," Greg began. "That MP5 is yours now. I expect you to take care of it. This is a good chance to show you something."

"What?" Keitaro asked. He hated it when Greg was vague.

"Which one of these is bad?" Greg asked as he handed Keitaro two long, curved black magazines. He immediately realized that they were for the MP-5.

"I don't know," he said hesitantly.

"This one is bad," Greg said. "The spring is weak. Try pushing down there."

"Yeah," Keitaro said. "Why are you explaining this to me?"

"I told you," Greg said. "The MP5 is yours. I expect you to have it in working order at all times. This isn't a game where your weapon can't jam. In this world weapons do jam and then either you or your partner die."

"Alright," Keitaro said.

"This guy doesn't have any NVDs," Greg said as he pulled out about a dozen magazines in different shapes and set them aside. Finally he straightened up and picked up the magazines he had set aside. "These will do."

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"This is incredible." Greg groaned in annoyance and glared at Seta.

"We get it," he snapped. "It's incredible. You've said that ten times. Can you find what we need?"

"What you need?" Allison asked.

"I haven't been looking," Seta said sheepishly. Greg's rage was all consuming.

"Why you. . .little," he managed to choke out.

"It's pretty dark," Keitaro interrupted. "Let's go have a look around." Greg turned his glare on him for a moment before he took a deep breath.

"Yeah," he said calmly. He stood up and picked up his bag. He made his way between the large columns and finally sat down once he felt they were far enough away. "I'm going to shoot him."

"Be reasonable," Keitaro said.

"I think I'm being perfectly reasonable," Greg said as he opened the bag and handed Keitaro his MP5. "No. I know I'm being perfectly reasonable in a perfectly unreasonable situation."

"How have you kept Seta out of your sights for this long?" Keitaro wondered. Greg shrugged and pulled on his vest.

"We need him to help us save the world," he said as he picked up his assault rifle and attached a massive scope to the top. "After that I'm going to see just how 'immortal' he is. Here."

"What's this?" Keitaro asked as he took the offered device.

"A radio," Greg said. "You see anyone sneaking around then you call me. I'll do the same."

"Okay," Keitaro said uncertainly. "Do you really think that they'll show up?"

"No."

"You're a really bad liar."

"Only when I don't bother trying."

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

Keitaro watched as four men advanced towards where he was hidden. "Greg?"

"I'm hurrying," Greg hissed in the radio's earpiece. "Just stay down."

"They have night vision goggles," Keitaro hissed. "I'm can't exactly stay hidden forever."

"Just keep your head down," Greg growled.

"Over there!" one of them bellowed in English.

"Shit," Keitaro cursed.

"Suppressive fire!" Greg roared. Keitaro swung up the muzzle of his MP5 and squeezed the trigger.

"Shit!" The men scattered and ducked behind columns as hot lead filled the air around them. 'Twenty-nine,' Keitaro thought sharply. He ejected the sub-machinegun's clip and slapped another one in. One of the men tried to move, but Keitaro swung the weapon on him and he was down.

"Hurry," Keitaro said sharply into the radio.

"I'm hurrying," Greg barked. "I was on the other side of the temple." Keitaro's weapon fired it's second to last bullet and he quickly ejected the clip again.

"Freeze kid." Keitaro whipped around, his body running on automatic. He drew his Glock 17 and fired even as he brought it up. The first two rounds hit the man in the leg and sent him to the ground. The third hit him in the head and silenced his cry. He swung around and emptied the magazine at another soldier. He snatched up his MP5 and pushed another magazine into the receiver.

"Jesus," Keitaro growled. "How many people are there?" He swung around sharply and the forearm of his sub-machinegun connected with another man's head, knocking his helmet off. Keitaro's eyes widened as he found himself staring and a young teenager.

"Please. Don't kill me."

"Drop your gun and the vest," Keitaro growled. "Or I'll blow your brains out." The young man quickly did as he was told. "Get the hell out of here." He shot to his feet and scrambled away.

"What the hell are you doing?" Keitaro turned and saw Greg running towards him. He froze and raised his assault rifle to his shoulder. He waited for a moment and then lowered his weapon. "I lost him. Damn it! What were you thinking?"

"He was just a kid," Keitaro said, taken back by Greg's anger.

"So what?" Greg snapped. "Do you have any clue how many times I've seen women and children trying and succeeding in killing other people?"

"Sorry," Keitaro said. Greg took a deep breath and looked around.

"Incredible."

"I'm sorry," Keitaro repeated.

"Not that," Greg said. "There are seven dead men back there."

"Seven?" Keitaro asked in shock.

"Yeah," Greg said. "You killed seven soldiers without any help."

"I don't even remember seven people," Keitaro said. "I only remember three people."

"So you were running on instinct," Greg said. "That's damn impressive. You're learning extremely fast."

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"What's up?" Seta watched as Keitaro and Greg walked back into the light of their small lamp.

"Ran into a couple of bums," Greg said simply. "Gave Keitaro some trouble."

"You okay?" Allison asked.

"I'm fine," Keitaro said.

"Your arm is bleeding," Allison said. "I'll bandage it." Seta turned back to the wall and looked up as Greg sat down next to him.

"Something wrong?"

"Yeah," Greg said. "What is that kid?"

"What do you mean?" Seta asked.

"Is he some kind of Government experimental assassin or something?" Greg asked.

"I really doubt it," Seta said. "Why do you ask?"

"He just killed seven mean and could have killed one more," Greg said. "His skills with weapons are incredible and I'm having trouble believing that this is the first time he's capped someone."

"He has a knack for that sort of thing," Seta said with a shrug. "He enrolled in some martial arts classes while we were in America and he showed incredible potential. His sensei was absolutely amazed."

"Immortal and a battlefield natural," Greg said as he rubbed his face. "God we could have used him back in Delta."

"I doubt he would ever volunteer," Seta said. "The only reason he's fighting now is that we didn't give him much of a choice."

"He let one of them get away," Greg said. "That's going to bite us in the ass."

"He isn't you," Seta said. "He still hurts every time he pulls the trigger."

"I know," Greg said. "He's just another kid whose life I've ruined."

"Yeah," Seta said. "He is."

"If I could," Greg said. "I would be feeling really bad now and you wouldn't be helping."

"But you can't feel bad," Seta said. "You're a sociopath."

"Don't say that like it's a bad thing," Greg said. "So where are we heading?"

"The Congo."

"Great," Greg said. "I'm going to go see about getting some grenades, machineguns, and bug repellant."

"It's not that bad," Seta said.

"Trust me," Greg said. "I've conducted enough covert ops in the Congo to know that it can be very bad."

"Covert ops?" Seta turned and saw Keitaro standing behind them.

"Hey Part-Timer. Where are your glasses?"

"I dropped them," Keitaro said. "Just now."

"You do something amazing like holding off half a dozen men and then you drop your glasses?" Greg demanded.

"It was my fault," Allison said. "I knocked them off and then he stepped on them."

"Don't you have a spare set?"

"Back in my room!" Keitaro yelled. "If I had known that I was going to be dragged around the world then I would have brought them."

"You should just get laser eye surgery," Greg said.

"That's a little too expensive for a student who works as a landlord," Keitaro said in annoyance. Seta took the chance to marvel at the change in Keitaro's attitude. He couldn't remember Keitaro ever being pissed off or annoyed before.

"Talk to Allison," Seta said, trying to interrupt the fight. "She's an optometrist."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I'm also an Egyptologist," Allison said. "I have a double doctorate."

"Those fields are radically different," Greg said.

"She's scary smart," Seta said. Allison blushed at the compliment.

"I just do Egyptology as a hobby," she explained. "I could fix your eyes if you could pay."

"We can," Greg said. "As far as I can tell you have two choices."

"I do?" Keitaro asked.

"One: we can buy you a new set of glasses," Greg began. "Problem is they're probably going to break too. Or you can get the operation and we loose a little bit of time."

"Is that okay?" Keitaro asked.

"We'll live," Greg said simply.

-End

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

-Author's notes. This one took a little while to write. In the next chapter a glasses-less Keitaro and crew head to the Congo while Naru and the other Hina girls struggled to catch up.


	6. Chapter 06

I don't own anything.

Keitaro's Big Adventure 

Chapter Six

"So this is it?" Greg looked at the large temple tucked away in the thick rain forest.

"This is it," Keitaro said.

"And you're already looking for ways to blow it up," Seta accused.

"Yeah," Greg said. "I picked up some really nice TNT back in Egypt. I've always wanted to try this stuff."

"What did you blow stuff up with last time?" Keitaro asked.

"C4," Greg said with a shrug. "Fun stuff, but that's what I used to use all the time. It kind of gets old. You know?"

"No," Keitaro said. He walked up to the temple and sat down on the steps leading up it.

"I could teach you," Greg offered as he un-slung his assault rifle and sat down.

"Really?"

"Sure," Greg said. "Explosives aren't as complicated as people make them out to be."

"What are you talking about?" Seta shrieked. "It takes weeks to plan the implosion of a building!"

"That's explosions," Greg said. "Explosives and explosions are two completely different things."

"You're an idiot," Seta said as he swatted at his neck. "Damn bugs."

"Here," Greg said as he reached into his backpack and pulled out a small plastic bottle.

"Thanks," Seta said as he took the bottle. "I'm going to go have a look inside the temple." Keitaro waited until the older man had disappeared from view before asking the question that had been on his mind for nearly a whole minute.

"What was in that bottle?"

"Sugar water," Greg said with a grin. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long cigar. "That'll teach him."

"For what?"

"Being a smart ass."

"He's an archaeologist. It's part of the job."

"Don't make me put you on my shit list."

"Sorry."

"So how are your eyes?" Greg asked.

"They're fine," Keitaro said happily. "If they were going to get infected then they would have by now."

"If you say so."

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"This isn't half bad," Keitaro said as he leaned back on the temple's stone stairs and basked in the bright sunlight.

"It's fine," Greg said simply as he cleaned his assault rifle. "Nice and clean. You really need to keep an eye on Armalite assault rifles. They don't take negligence well."

"Armalite?" Keitaro asked. "I thought that was an M16."

"It's a shortened derivative called an M4," Greg explained, slipping into his lecture mode. "Actually the integral rail on top of the receiver makes it an M4A1. Anyway Armalite is a general term for the whole family of weapons."

"Oh," Keitaro said. "Of course."

"You're being sarcastic," Greg noted as he began to put the weapon together.

"Sorry," Keitaro said quickly. "So why do you think the Bernardellis are after the Lost Turtle Civilization's secret weapon?"

"For power," Greg said simply. "Is there any other motivation a human needs?"

"You're a very bitter person," Keitaro said. "But you're probably right."

"Of course I'm right," Greg said. "I've been dealing with people like them for almost as long as you've been alive."

"Really?" Keitaro asked, glancing at Greg. "How old are you?"

"I was born in 1956," Greg said.

"You've got to be kidding!" Keitaro exclaimed. "That would make you about. . ."

"Forty-eight," Greg supplied. "A few years shy of being a baby boomer."

"Forty-eight!" Keitaro finished. "You don't look it," he added calmly as an afterthought.

"Hard exercise and lots of liquor," Greg said proudly.

"What?" Keitaro asked.

"Alcohol preserves things," Greg said.

"I should have expected that from you," Keitaro said.

"Yeah," Greg said as he twisted a suppressor onto his rifle. "You really should have."

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"I know you're there," Greg said in a singsong tone as he began to wind a long strip of rough, green cloth around his M21. "You just can't hide from me." He glanced up and smirked. He knew there were there. He also knew that they would wait for nightfall. "Which is in about twenty minutes." Greg stood up and straightened his BDU pants. He had already gotten rid of his worn jeans and gray army shirt. Aside from them his only other clothes were his BDUs.

"Hey Greg!" Greg turned and saw Keitaro jogging down the stairs.

"Something wrong?" Greg asked as he pulled on a pair of black leather gloves and buttoned his BDU blouse.

"I just wanted to tell you that we're almost done," Keitaro said as he inspected Greg carefully. "What's with that get up?"

"We're going to have company really soon," Greg said simply as he picked up his M21 and slung it over his shoulder. "Don't worry too much, but keep on your toes after the sun sets."

"What's on you're face?" Keitaro asked. "Not that I'm complaining. I think it's a big improvement."

"It's mud and green paint," Greg said as he picked up his camouflaged M4. "Get back in there and load you MP5."

"Are you sure you'll be okay out here alone?" Keitaro asked.

"I'll be fine," Greg said as he walked to the bottom of the steps. "Now get in there."

"Fine." Greg ignored the bitter tone in the young man's voice and walked towards the tree line.

"That's right assholes," he muttered. "Keep watching as long as you can." Then Greg did what he had been trained to do and what he had done a thousand times before. He disappeared into the jungle and released the safety catch up his rifle.

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"Are you done yet?" Keitaro demanded as he kept his MP5 leveled at the entrance.

"You're making me nervous!" Seta yelled as he looked over the walls.

"I'm making you nervous?" Keitaro asked. "What about the gun shots outside?" Keitaro winced slightly as something nearby exploded. He looked desperately at the blocks of TNT, but they were stable. 'More or less.'

"I'm done!" Seta yelled. He flipped his notebook shut and shoved it in his backpack.

"It's about time!" Keitaro snapped. He grabbed the older man and dragged him through the entrance. He glanced around desperately. The forest had been turned into a war zone. Tracers and explosions gave everything an odd nightmarish look.

"Over here." Keitaro turned and watched as a piece of the forest detached itself and walked towards them.

"If you're here," Keitaro began. "Then who are they shooting at?"

"Each other," Greg said. "That's why snipers are called the most hated men on the battlefield. We cause total chaos."

"Over there!"

"Oh shit." Greg brought up his M4 and let off a long burst. "We need to get out of here now."

"Do you think they found the land rover?" Keitaro asked as he stared through the scope of his MP5. He found a vaguely man-shaped target and fired.

"No," Greg said. "Let's get the hell out of here. You do have all the coordinates, right?"

"Of course I. . ." Seta was cut off by a hiss as a bullet whistled by them.

"Shit that was close," Greg cursed as he returned fire. "Now what were you saying Seta?" No one answered.

"Seta?" Keitaro asked as he glanced behind. "Seta's hit!"

"What?" Greg demanded. He glanced at the older man and Keitaro saw his face contort in rage. "You fuckers are dead." Greg pulled something from one of the breast pockets of his BDU blouse.

"What's that?" Keitaro demanded.

"Just duck and cover!" Greg screamed as he hit the button on the detonator and the world exploded into light.

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"That was just brilliant."

"Oh shut up," Greg growled. The nurse ignored them and continued to sew the long gash across Greg's back.

"So what are we going to do?" Keitaro asked. "Seta's in a coma. We can't do this without him."

"We have his notebook," Greg said. "That gives us the next location."

"But what can we do once we're there?" Keitaro asked.

"You can translate," Greg said.

"Whoa," Keitaro said quickly. "Slow down. I'm no where near as good as Seta is."

"You can still do it," Greg said.

"Hold still," the nurse said in perfect English.

"If I try to translate it then we'll probably end up in the middle of a desert somewhere," Keitaro said.

"Maybe that's where the next location is," Greg said. The nurse finished and left to find some kind of dressing for the wound. "Did you get Seta's weapon?"

"I have it," Keitaro said as he patted the grip of the Beretta. His fingers traced over the strange design on the weapon's textured grip. His eyes immediately fell on the tattoo on Greg's left shoulder blade. "Hey Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"We captured this Beretta from the Bernardellis, right?"

"Yeah," Greg said. "You were there. We got it in Germany."

"Right," Keitaro said. "And the MP5, right?" He looked at the weapon half hidden in a duffel bag and saw the same mark on the grip.

"Yeah," Greg said. "Before Hawaii. We had those other two, but we surrendered them to the German army."

"The Bernardellis mark their weapons," Keitaro said as his fingers wrapped around the grip of Seta's Beretta. He could practically see the wheels turn in Greg's brain. In a flash he whipped around, but Keitaro had already leveled the Beretta. "Put your hands up."

"Okay," Greg said as he lifted his hands into the air. Keitaro quickly grabbed the shoulder harness that had been lying at Greg's feet and stepped back.

"Now I have a few questions for you."

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

Haruka Noriyasu looked around the tiny bar and sighed in disgust. "This looks like somewhere that he would hang out."

"Really?" Sarah McDougal asked.

"Believe me," Haruka said with a sigh. "When I traveled with him before I went to the dorm he would spend half his time in bars."

"He never did that when I was with him," Sarah said. 'He has some redeeming qualities,' Haruka thought with a small smile.

"Excuse me." Haruka turned and looked at the bartender. He stared at her for a moment Haruka began to grow annoyed. "Are you Haruka Noriyasu?" His question caught Haruka off guard and her annoyance vanished in a flash.

"Yes I am."

"I knew you look familiar," the bartender said with a smile. "Your husband showed me a picture of you three once."

"You know where Seta is?" Haruka demanded.

"No," the bartender said, obviously surprised by her outbreak. "The last time I saw him was about seven weeks ago."

"What happened the last time you saw him?" Haruka asked as she sat down at the bar and shoved her cigarette into one of the ashtrays.

"His partner brought in some kid. . ."

"His partner?" Haruka interrupted.

"Well he wasn't really Seta's partner I guess," the bartender said, obviously struggling to explain something. "His name is Greg Tyler. He and Seta hung out a lot. They left about five weeks ago and showed up two weeks later."

"What about the kid?" Haruka asked. "Did he have a name?"

"Well," the bartender began. "It was a foreign name. I think is was Urashema."

"Urashima," Haruka corrected.

"That was it," the bartender said. "Anyway Greg came in with that Urashima kid and ordered a few drinks. Urashima asked me to fax something for him and when I came back Greg was gone. Seta showed up later and he and the kid left. That was the last time I saw them."

"Can you think of anything?" Haruka demanded. "Anyone who they would have spoken to?"

"There's a man named Harry," the bartender said. "He's not exactly one the right side of the law, but Greg worked a lot with him."

"Where can I find Harry?" Haruka asked.

"He owns an office down by the marina," the bartender said. "Sorry I couldn't help you any more."

"You've already helped enough," Haruka said as she stood up.

"Do you really think that the idiot would do something illegal?" Sarah asked as they walked towards the door.

"I know Seta would."

"I meant Keitaro."

"He wouldn't," Haruka said. She pushed the door opened and nearly walked into a young woman.

"I'm sorry," the woman said in rather poor English.

"Naru?" Haruka asked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Would you believe I'm looking for Keitaro?" Naru asked.

"Yes," Haruka said. "Are all the girls here?"

"Yeah," Naru said. "We split up to try and find clues."

"Zoinks," Sarah said dryly.

"We found someone who can help us," Haruka said. "You can come with us if you want."

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"Boss?" Harry glanced up as someone opened the door to his office.

"What is it John?"

"There are three women here who are demanding to see you," John said.

"So that's what all the screaming was about," Harry said.

"No," John said. "Marko got a little too 'friendly' with them. That's what all the screaming was about."

"I'm going to have that man's knee caps broken," Harry growled. "Send them in."

"Yes sir," John said. A moment later three relatively young women walked into Harry's office.

"What can I do for you?" Harry asked.

"My name is Haruka Noriyasu," the oldest woman said.

"Are you by any chanced related to a man named Seta?" Harry asked.

"He's my husband," Haruka said. "Someone told me that you might be able to help us find him."

"Maybe he doesn't want to be found," Harry said.

"Maybe I should kick your ass," Haruka said as her eyes narrowed. It had been many years since Harry had been threatened and many more years since he had actually felt threatened. It amused him.

"I can't tell you much," he said. "Seta, his partner, and a kid with a bowl cut came into harbor selling a boat."

"A boat?" Haruka asked. "What kind of boat?"

"One that they obtained by less then legal means," Harry said. "They wanted to liquidate it, so they sold it to me. Later that day they came to me looking for something."

"What did they want?" the second oldest woman asked.

"They were trying to find a way to get to Germany and they also wanted weapons," Harry said.

"Weapons?" Haruka asked.

"Guns," Harry said. "I couldn't help them there, but I helped them find a pilot that was willing to fly them to Germany."

"Why did they want to go to Germany?" the second oldest asked again.

"I didn't ask," Harry said. "Do you know what you are trying to get yourself into?"

"What do you mean?" Haruka asked.

"I'd hate to tell you this," Harry said. "But someone is trying to kill your husband. They failed at an excavation sight nearby and they failed on the beach a week later."

"And you think that we should just turn around and walk away?" the second oldest demanded.

"Seta is with a man named Greg. . ."

"Tyler," Haruka finished for him. "Who is he?"

"He's a man that came to this island a year or two ago," Harry said. "We've worked together. He'll take very good care of your husband."

"Thank you for your help," Haruka said as she dragged the two out. Harry sighed and massaged his temples.

"Greg is going to kill me if those three catch up with them."

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"So Keitaro is with Seta," Naru said. "And why are they going to Germany?"

"There were some excavations there recently," Haruka said. "Get the other girls. We're going to Germany."

"Yeah!" Sarah cheered happily.

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

"So who the hell are you?" Keitaro demanded.

"I'm Greg Tyler," Greg said slowly.

"Cut the shit," Keitaro growled. "You know what I mean."

"I am Sergeant Major Gregory Bernardelli Tyler of the United States Army First Special Forces Operation Detachment Delta," Greg said monotonously. "Retired of course," he added.

"What exactly does that mean?" Keitaro asked as he kept his weapon leveled at Greg's face.

"That means that I'm a retired Delta Force operator for the United States Army," Greg said simply.

"You're also a Bernadelli," Keitaro accused.

"On my mother's side," Greg said with a nod. "She was a mafia princess who moved to America where she meant my father."

"Is that why you have that tattoo on your shoulder?" Keitaro asked.

"I have this tattoo because I was part of the Bernardelli mafia for about seven years," Greg said. "You want a brief time line or something?"

"Why not," Keitaro asked as he sat down carefully. "We're not going anywhere soon."

"Fine," Greg said. "I was born January third, 1956. My father was a Marines Corps sniper and veteran of World War II and later Korea. My mother was a first generation Italian immigrant."

"And a mafia princess," Keitaro added.

"Not her choice," Greg said. "I was the class of '73. I graduated with good enough marks, but I decided to enlist. I chose the army mainly to piss off my father. He always wanted me to be a Marine like him. In 1976 I was chosen for sniper training at Fort Benning, Georgia and I graduated on my first try. A year later I became airborne qualified at the same place."

"You mean parachuting?" Keitaro asked.

"Yes," Greg said. "Now do you want to hear my story or not?"

"Keep going," Keitaro said. "I won't interrupt."

"In 1978 I was selected to join a brand new covert operation unit," Greg said. "That was Delta."

"How long were you in the military?" Keitaro asked.

"Twenty years," Greg said. "From '73 to '93. After that I just had to leave."

"Why?"

"Do you really want to know?" Greg asked.

"Yes."

"Alright," Greg said. "My little brother was a Marine. He died in 1983 in the terrorist bombing of the Marine barracks in Lebanon. My mother died in cancer in 1984. My father died of a heart attack in 1986. Then my wife died in 1991. I met her in high school in '73 and we were married in '84. He name was Rachel. She died giving birth to our first child while I was in Iraq for Operation Desert Storm."

"What happened to the child?" Keitaro asked, suddenly feeling horrible for bringing all this up.

"His name was Peter. He died," Greg said simply. "When my enlistment was over in 1993 I retired."

"Then what?" Keitaro pressed, ignoring the inner voice that told him to stop. He was dedicated to finding the truth and he wasn't going to stop until he got it all.

"I tried to live the civilian life for two years," Greg said. "I couldn't do it. I moved to Italy and became a hit man for the Bernardellis. In 2002 I gave that up and moved to Hawaii. I lived off my pension and did some odd jobs for Harry. Two years later I meant Seta." Greg slowly reached into his pocket and pulled something out. "Here." He tossed it and Keitaro caught it before it hit the ground. It was a set of dog tags with a wedding ring on the main chain. "That was my wife's." Keitaro lowered the Beretta finally.

"So now you travel with us because you still can't just live peacefully?" Keitaro asked.

"No," Greg said. "Now I'm traveling with you because I don't like the world's chances with just you two idiots trying to save it."

-End

(:::::::::::::::::::::::::::)

-Author's notes. Not that much humor in this one, but I hope to bring it back in the next one. Sorry this one took so long.


	7. Chapter 07

I don't own anything.

Keitaro's Big Adventure 

Chapter Seven

"I'm back." Greg glanced up at Keitaro and then turned back to his work.

"Have a nice walk?" he asked.

"It started raining," Keitaro said simply as he sat down on the motel room's bed. "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking an inventory of our equipment," Greg said.

"How are we doing?" Keitaro asked.

"Pretty bad," Greg said simply. He glanced up again and eyed the black markings on Keitaro's arm. "What does that mean?"

"What?" Keitaro asked.

"The tattoo on your left arm," Greg said.

"Oh," Keitaro said as he clapped a hand over the new body art. "It means sorrow."

"Ah," Greg said as he looked back at the weapons.

"I thought you were fluent in Japanese," Keitaro said.

"I speak it fine, but I have a little trouble with reading it," Greg explained with a shrug. He picked up the MP5 and sighed.

"What's wrong?" Keitaro asked.

"This weapon has had some pretty hard use," Greg explained. "The Bernardellis must have been using it for several years before we got it."

"Does that mean its suddenly going to stop working?" Keitaro asked.

"No," Greg said. "These German guns are pretty good. You just need to take care of it."

"I clean it once a week," Keitaro said simply.

"The other problem are the magazines," Greg said. "Almost all of them are second-hand. That's not a big problem for the pistols, but it's trouble for everything else."

"What do you suggest?" Keitaro asked.

"Cut ten rounds off," Greg said. "Only load twenty rounds in the magazines for the MP5. This should help the springs."

"Okay," Keitaro said. "Are there any other problems?"

"The suppressor on your MP5 is burning out," Greg said.

"Does that mean it's going to blow up?" Keitaro asked, unconsciously taking a step back.

"It just means that it's loosing its effectiveness," Greg said. "I'll look for a new one." Greg stood up and carefully packed his M21.

"Where are you going?"

"To have a look at the location from Seta's notebook."

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

"What's with all the soldiers?" Haruka glanced at Naru and shrugged simply.

"Can I help you ma'am?" one of the soldiers asked in German.

"I have a meeting with the archaeologist in charge of this dig," Haruka said, her grasp of the German dialect was flawless.

"All of you?" the soldier asked, an eyebrow rising as he looked at the fairly large group of women.

"Yes," Haruka said. "All of us."

"You'll need to ask the rent-a-cop at the front gate," the soldier said. "Just follow the fence around."

"Thank you," Haruka said.

"What did he say?" Shinobu asked.

"He said that we need to talk to the guard at the front desk," Haruka said as she began to follow the fence.

"I didn't know you spoke German," Motoko commented.

"I speak several languages," Haruka said. "It helps when you travel around the world for a living." She stopped and looked around. "Where're Su and Kitsune?"

"They decided to go sample the local food and drink," Motoko said, a look of disgust crossing her features. Haruka turned the corner and spotted the guard booth.

"Are they together at least?"

"Yes," Motoko said.

"Can I help you ma'am?" Haruka glanced at the security guard.

"I have a meeting with Doctor Anna Reese," she said.

"Name?" the guard asked.

"Haruka Noriyasu," Haruka said.

"The Doctor has been expecting you," the guard said. "She's in that building right there."

"Thank you," Haruka said simply as she walked through the gate.

"Mrs. Noriyasu!" She turned and watched as a young woman jogged towards her. "You are Mrs. Noriyasu, right?"

"Yes I am," Haruka said.

"I'm Doctor Anna Reese," the young woman said as she held out her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Same," Haruka said simply as she shook the woman's hand. Anna seemed to notice the other women.

"I wasn't expecting so many of you," she commented. "Oh well. Please follow me."

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

"So you're looking for your husband?" Anna asked.

"And my nephew," Haruka said.

"There were two men with Seta," Anna said. "One with light brown hair and one with black hair."

"The one with black hair," Haruka said.

"I can see some resemblance," Anna commented. "You don't look anything like the light-haired man."

"Could you ask her why there are so many soldiers around?" Naru asked.

"What did she say?" Anna asked.

"She wants to know why there are so many soldiers around the dig," Haruka translated.

"We were attacked by several terrorists a while ago," Anna said. "Actually they attacked the day your husband came."

"What happened?" Haruka asked, too curious at the moment to translate for Naru.

"Keitaro and Greg managed to kill several terrorists and then I called the army," Anna said.

"My nephew killed someone?" Haruka asked in shock.

"I heard them talking," Haruka said. "Apparently he killed two terrorists and then Greg brought him here. After that Greg took care of most of them. Your husband said that the terrorists were here because he and the other two were here."

"What did she say?" Shinobu asked. "I heard her mention Sempai."

"There was a terrorist attack while they were here," Haruka explained.

"A terrorist attack?" Naru asked in surprise.

"Do you know where they were going?" Haruka asked.

"I heard Seta mention Israel," Anna said. "I hope that helps."

"It does," Haruka said with a nod.

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

Greg pushed open the door to the motel room and froze when he found himself staring down the barrel of a suppressed MP5. "You know that terrorists tend to blow doors off their hinges."

"Sorry," Keitaro said as he lowered the weapon. "You just surprised me."

"Don't worry about it," Greg said as he set down the bag containing his old M21.

"Did you find it?" Keitaro asked as he set his MP5 on the counter and lay down on the bed.

"Yeah," Greg said. "It's a warehouse in an abandoned industrial park. I really doubt that a couple of gun shots would be out of place there."

"So when do you want to go in?" Keitaro asked.

"The sun's starting to come up," Greg said. "Let's wait till nightfall. It'll make it easier for us to move in undetected."

"And for other people to move in on us undetected," Keitaro said.

"That too."

"So," Keitaro said. "Where do you think we're heading next?"

"Australia," Greg said simply.

"Why?" Keitaro asked in surprise.

"Because I've never been to Australia," Greg said. "That's a good reason, right?"

"As good as any." There was a long pause. "Hey Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"You remember the first person you ever killed?"

"Yeah," Greg said. "What brought that up?"

"Just wondering?" Keitaro said.

"Dillinger, Howard. Alias Casper," Greg said. "He was a ex-CIA spook who went to work for the Commies. The CIA wanted a sniper to take him out and they turned to the Army. I was chosen because they thought my scores would be high enough to make up for my lack of field experience."

"And you killed him?" Keitaro asked.

"Yeah," Greg said with a shrug. "Seven hundred and twelve meters with a Dragunov SVD rifle."

"How many people did you kill before you left the Army?" Keitaro pressed.

"As a sniper?" Greg asked.

"Yeah."

"Nineteen official kills for the Army, fifty-eight kills for the Army 'off the books', and one hundred and seventy-three for the CIA."

"Off the books?" Keitaro asked.

"Nope," Greg said. "The kills for the CIA simply. . .never happened. They were unsolved murders or acts of terrorism."

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

"So that's it," Keitaro said.

"Yeah," Greg said as he looked around the industrial park. "I hate places like this."

"Why?" Keitaro asked.

"Too many high places," Greg said. "This is a sniper's paradise."

"You would know," Keitaro said simply.

"Yep." Greg stopped in front of one of the warehouses. "This is it."

"How are we going in?" Keitaro asked.

"There's a side window," Greg said. "If we cut the chain on the front door then we might as well put out a sign telling the Bernardellis which building we're in."

"Okay," Keitaro said as he followed Greg around the building. "Do you really think they'll show up?"

"They have every time so far," Greg said. He in front of one of the high windows and laid down the bag containing their automatic weapons. "You first."

"Why me?" Keitaro asked.

"Can you get in there without help?" Greg asked. Keitaro looked up at the window and shook his head. "I didn't think so. Now up you go." Keitaro put his boot in Greg's hands and was hoisted up to the window. He pulled himself in and dropped to the floor on the other side with his Glock 19 out.

"It's empty," he called back. "Throw the bag over." The large duffel flew through the window. Keitaro caught it deftly and quickly pulled his MP5 out of it. He shoved a magazine into the weapon and slapped the charging handle. A moment later Greg pulled himself through the window and dropped to the ground next to Keitaro. He grabbed his M4 and turned on a small lantern.

"Oh this is wonderful," Greg said as he looked at the packing crates scattered around the warehouse.

"What?" Keitaro asked.

"Have you ever played Quake?" Greg asked. "This place looks just like the maze in that game."

"Is that a problem?" Keitaro asked.

"Yeah," Greg said with a frown. "Those little bastards half my age always kill me in the maze."

"An ex-Army Delta Force sniper gets his ass kicked by little kids in a video game?" Keitaro asked as he grabbed his combat vest out of the bag and pulled it on.

"Don't mock me," Greg warned as he tugged on his own vest. "Kids these days are smart."

"You actually sound like an old man," Keitaro said in amusement.

"I am an old man," Greg said. "A grumpy old man." He looked around and raised the lantern.

"See something?"

"Trap door," Greg said as he walked over. "Give me a hand." Keitaro grabbed one of the corners and helped Greg flip it open. Greg immediately swept the dark abyss below with a light. "Empty."

"I'll have a look," Keitaro said.

"Be careful with the explosives," Greg said. "I think I saw a condemned sign outside."

"Right," Keitaro said. "This could take a while."

"I'm fine," Greg said as he sat down with his M4 in his lap and tugged a cigar out of one of the pockets in his vest. "I found I guy who had a whole box of Cubans."

"Have fun," Keitaro said brightly.

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

Greg leaned back and took a deep drag on his cigar. "How you doing Keitaro?" Greg waited for the answer. "Keitaro?" He moved to the edge of the hole and glanced down into the basement storage area. There was a gaping hole in one of the walls. "Oh." Greg leaned back and pulled his headset on. "Hey Keitaro."

"Yeah?" the young man asked.

"Thanks for telling me that you found a passage."

"Sorry," Keitaro said. "I found a chamber and I'm looking around."

"Okay," Greg said. He set the main radio part aside and brought his cigar to his lips again. He brought his M4 to his shoulder and flipped the night vision scope on. He preferred to sit in a dark room then to sit in a dark room with a light sitting beside him.

"Everything okay up there?"

"Wonderful," Greg said as he lowered his assault rifle and laid it in his lap. "How are you doing in there?"

"I'm still looking for anything that looks like coordinates," Keitaro said. "Or any pictograms showing Australia."

"Darn," Greg said simply. Something nearby rattled. Greg sighed and stood up. He managed to shove the trap door into place and carefully extinguished the tip of his cigar. He slid it into his vest pocket and picked up his M4. "Hey Keitaro?"

"Yeah?"

"Looks like we're going to have some trouble," Greg said as he brought his M4 to his shoulder. Through the scope he could see the front door sway slightly. "I closed the trapdoor, so don't worry about it."

"Will you be okay?" Keitaro asked.

"I'll be fine," Greg said as he picked up his duffel back and climbed on top of one of the containers. He unfolded the bi-pod of his M4 and waited for the door to open. 'This will be fun.'

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

"God damn it!" Keitaro jumped in surprise as something nearby exploded. He finished the translation and stared at the next location. He grabbed at the radio on his belt. "I have the location Greg." He listened to the static for almost a full moment and turned to sprint down the passageway. "Greg?"

"Still here."

"What's going on?" Keitaro demanded.

"Things have kind of bogged down," Greg said. "I think there were about eighteen people. I got twelve."

"Good," Keitaro said. "I'm coming back."

"No," Greg said. "There are still six people up here. They will shoot you as you try to get out of that hole."

"Just get them away from the trap door," Keitaro said.

"I'm not really in any position to heard them," Greg said. "Oh shit."

"Greg?" Keitaro waited for an answer as he reached the sub-basement. "Greg?" Keitaro pulled off a large bundle from his vest and tossed it into the passage. "Greg? I'm coming up." There was still no answer. Keitaro un-slung his MP5 and forced the heavy door open a little. He rested the muzzle of his weapon against the edge and looked around. He could see a single man standing by a large container.

"Not so tough now, are you?" the man sneered in English. Keitaro brought his MP5's folding stock to his shoulder and stared at the man through the weapon's scope. A lantern illuminated him. It was an easy shot. Keitaro climbed out of the basement and looked around the warehouse. He couldn't see anyone else. He moved quickly towards the body of his latest unfortunate victim and peeked around the corner of the container.

"Greg!" The older man was slumped backwards against another crate with his legs sprayed out in front of him. His M4 was by his side along with a full magazine not far away. In his right hand was his Colt revolver. "Greg?"

"Freeze!" Keitaro froze in his place. "Drop your weapon!" Keitaro's MP5 fell from his numb fingers. "Now stand up and move away from the body!" Keitaro stood up and stepped away from Greg. "Now turn around slowly." Keitaro turned and stared at the young man aiming an MP5 at him. "Draw you pistol without touching the trigger and drop it on the ground," the young man ordered. Keitaro carefully drew the Glock 19 from his hip and dropped it to the ground. "Draw the pistol holstered on your belt and drop it." Keitaro glanced at Greg out of the corner of his eye. He was to the left and slightly behind the man. Greg twitched slightly and Keitaro saw his eye's open.

"The holster it too tight," he lied. "I need both hands to draw it."

"Fine," the young man said. "Don't try anything." Keitaro reached behind him and tugged at the handle of the Glock 17 holstered in the small of his back with his left hand. His right hand went to the double-edged boot knife sheathed next to it. Keitaro watched as Greg struggled to raise his Colt. He looked at Keitaro and winked. "Hurry up!"

"I'm hurrying," Keitaro said as his thumb moved to rest on the flat of the blade like Greg had taught him to. A loud gunshot rang out and the young man screamed as a massive .357 Magnum round slammed into his left boot. He spun around, leveling his MP5 at Greg and Keitaro launched himself forward. At the last minute the young man tried to turn, but Keitaro's hand grabbed the plastic forearm of the sub-machinegun and pushed it to the side. His body hit the young man's and the blade sank into his chest. Keitaro grabbed the handle with both hands and shoved it deeper. The young man thrashed for a second and fell still.

"Good job." Greg said. Keitaro stared at the blood soaking into his hands.

"He's dead," he managed weakly. He watched as Greg used the M4 as a cane and managed to climb to his feet. He staggered over to where Keitaro still sat on the young man.

"Yeah." He fell to his knees next to them. Suddenly his hand grabbed Keitaro by the hair on the back of his head and forced him down, face-to-face with the young man. "Look familiar?"

"Oh my God," Keitaro whispered. It was the young man he had let go in Egypt.

"Did you think that he would suddenly become a better person because you let him live?" Greg demanded. "Don't you every hesitate again."

-End

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

-Author's notes. Okay. I lied. There was even less humor in this one. I'm serious considering changing the genre. Maybe the humor should be drama. Oh well. I know Keitaro seems OOC, but it's only going to get much worse from here.


	8. Chapter 08

I don't own anything.

Keitaro's Big Adventure 

Chapter Eight

"You were extremely lucky young man," the doctor said. "The bullet went clean through with little expansion."

"I'm not lucky," Greg growled.

"I suppose not," the doctor said with a chuckle. "If you were lucky then you would not have been shot."

"If I was lucky I would have been shot and put out of my misery a long time ago," Greg said as he sat up and growled in pain. "It never gets any easier."

"What?" the doctor said. Greg waved his hand dismissingly and swung his feet off of the examining table. "So what's wrong with him?" The doctor glanced at Keitaro and sighed.

"I am a doctor, not a psychiatrist," he said as he watched Keitaro wash his hands again.

"What's your best guess?" Greg asked.

"Obsessive Compulsive Disorder," the doctor said. "How long has he been like that?"

"He just started when we arrived here," Greg said. "He's been washing his hands for over three hours."

"Well that is certainly not natural," the doctor said as he leaned against the table next to Greg. "Maybe he just had a traumatic experience and it will where off."

"Maybe," Greg said. He sighed and rubbed his temples. Forcing Keitaro to look at that boy had been a bad idea, but it had been the only war for Greg to get his message across.

"Back to you," the doctor said.

"No physical activities?" Greg guessed.

"On the nose," the doctor said. "Have you been shot before?" Greg pondered the obvious joke and decided to tell the truth.

"Twice."

"I was just joking," the doctor said.

"I wasn't," Greg said simply. "Are you going to give me any pain killers?"

"Yes," the doctor said. "What would you like?"

"Morphine," Greg said immediately.

"Okay," the doctor said slowly.

"That was a joke."

"I figured."

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

Greg looked around the tiny motel room and glanced down at the bandages wrapped around his chest. 'Finally stopped bleeding,' he thought with some relief. "Keitaro?"

"Something wrong?" Keitaro asked from the motel room bathroom. 'He's still in there?' Greg wondered.

"No," he said simply. "Are you okay? You've been in the bathroom for about an hour."

"I'm just washing my hands," Keitaro said. That set off warning bells in Greg's head. He had heard the tap going since Keitaro had gone in there. 'Maybe something broke,' Greg thought. He had seen many demonstrations of how people reacted to fighting and killing. He had even seen one young man go temporarily blind in his first firefight. Greg stood up slowly and moved to the door.

"You decent?"

"Just let me finish washing my hands," Keitaro said. Greg pushed the door opened and stepped into the small room.

"Keitaro," he said slowly. "How long have you been washing your hands?"

"I guess an hour," Keitaro said as he held up his hands. "But they're still bloody." Greg inspected the young man's hands carefully.

"They're bloody because they're bleeding," Greg said. "I think that you're having some problems."

"No I'm not," Keitaro said. "I just need to get the blood off my hands."

"You can't get the blood off your hands," Greg said. "Well not until you bleed out anyway." Greg walked back into the room and grabbed his bag. He opened it and tugged out his old black leather gloves.

"What are those for?" Keitaro asked as he scrubbed his hands with a bloody towel.

"I'm going to try an experiment," Greg explained. "Let's see if you need to wash your hands if you can't see them."

"But I don't have a problem," Keitaro insisted. Greg ignored him and handed the gloves to the young man. Keitaro sighed and slipped them on. "I'm going to go to sleep."

"Okay," Greg said.

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

"This is a pretty nice place," Naru said as she looked around the city. "Have you ever been to Israel before?"

"No," Haruka said. "And I can't find any sign of Seta or Keitaro."

"So we lost their trail?" Naru asked as she picked up a newspaper and tried to puzzle the words out.

"Maybe," Haruka said. "I'm calling some of Seta's old acquaintances."

"Is acquaintances tasty?" Su asked. Haruka sighed and rubbed her temples. She had forgotten how much of a headache these girls could be.

"Where are the others?" she asked.

"Motoko and Kitsune are out making money and Sarah is out with Shinobu looking for food," Naru explained.

"What about Mutsumi?" Haruka asked.

"She's unconscious in the bedroom," Naru said. "Oh dear."

"What?"

"I think a church or something burned down," Naru said. "I think it says that at least twelve men were found inside."

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

"I've never heard of this country," Greg said as he read Keitaro's translation.

"I have," Keitaro said as he brushed his hair out of his eyes. "One of the girls in the dorm is a princess from there."

"Oh," Greg said. "Maybe you can get us some weapons there."

"I don't think so," Keitaro said. "So how are we getting there?"

"By boat," Greg said.

"What about the old man?" Keitaro asked.

"I don't know," Greg said. "He and his plane disappeared from the airport."

"Nothing just disappears," Keitaro said.

"Sure things do," Greg said. "I used to make people disappear for a living."

"Right," Keitaro said. "So what kind of boat are we using to cross the Indian Ocean?"

"An ocean liner," Greg said. Keitaro nearly coughed on the glass of water he had been drinking.

"We're going on an ocean liner?" he asked.

"It was all I could find," Greg said with a shrug. "The problem is that we're only going to be able to sneak a few weapons aboard."

"A few?" Keitaro repeated.

"And no long arms," Greg said. "I'm mailing the MP5, M21, and M4 to Harry. He'll hold them for us."

"So we're going to go up against the Bernardellis with a Beretta, two Glocks, a Jericho, and a Colt?" Keitaro asked.

"We have to sell the Beretta and one of the Glocks," Greg said. "Which one?"

"The Glock 17," Keitaro said. "Is there a reason?"

"I can hide smaller weapons easier," Greg explained. "And the fewer the weapons, the smaller the chance of one being found."

"And why are you keeping your Colt?" Keitaro asked.

"Because it's big and shiny and loud," Greg said. "And people fall flat on their asses when they get hit."

"You have issues," Keitaro said.

"You're one to talk."

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

"So you've seen him?" Haruka asked.

"Yeah," Allison said. "He called me and asked me if I could show him around some ruins here."

"Was there a dark-haired man with him?"

"Yes," Allison said. "There were two of them."

"Two?" Haruka asked in confusion. 'That Greg guy,' she realized. "Do you know where they went?"

"They said that they were going to go look for a temple some where," Allison said. "Give me a minute to think."

"It's very important," Haruka said.

"I believe that is was in the Congo," Allison said.

"That's great," Haruka said. "How did they seem?"

"What do you mean?" Allison asked.

"Did they seem worried?" Haruka asked, remembering Harry's words.

"No," Allison said. "They were very laid back."

"I see," Haruka said. "Do you know the exact location of where they were going?"

"No," Allison said. "But an old friend of Seta's has a mission down there. It's called Saint Michael's."

"Thank you very much," Haruka said. "I have to go."

"Good luck finding them," Allison said cheerfully. Haruka hung the phone up.

"So?" Motoko prodded.

"We're heading to the Congo," Haruka said.

"How can we afford that?" Naru asked. "We don't exactly have a lot of money."

"What do you mean?" Su asked. "We have lots of money, see?" she asked as she held up a thick wad of bills.

"That's counterfeiting!" Motoko declared.

"What do you mean?" Haruka asked, staring at the ceiling. "I don't see any money making machines."

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

Greg looked around the deck of the cruise ship and leaned back in his deck chair. "I could get used to this."

"I know what you mean," Keitaro said as he put his gloved hands behind his back. Greg glanced at him and decided against bringing up that fact that Keitaro now sported several new tattoos. "Seven days so far and we've got one to go."

"So what's on your mind?"

"I was just wondering what the girls were doing," Keitaro said with a shrug.

"Are you really going back there?" Greg asked.

"What do you mean?" Keitaro asked.

"Every time you talk about going back to that dorm you seem to get really bummed out," Greg explained. "You could come live with me if you want."

"You're house was destroyed," Keitaro pointed out.

"I can rebuild it," Greg said dismissively. "I've got enough money coming in."

"From where?" Keitaro asked.

"My pension and my weekly paychecks from the Marines," Greg said.

"You're working for the Marines?" Keitaro asked.

"I'm a civilian instructor for the sniper school in Hawaii," Greg explained. "It pays pretty well."

"If you say so," Keitaro said.

"I do," Greg said. "So what's this country we're going to like?"

"MolMol?" Keitaro asked.

"Yeah."

"It's weird," Keitaro said. "I almost got roped into marrying a girl half my age."

"That's weird."

"I mean that literally," Keitaro said. "I spent more time tied up in that damned country then I did walking around freely."

"Kinky."

"Beats getting hit," Keitaro said.

"Kinkier."

"Shut up."

"Fine," Greg said. His curiosity finally got the better of him. "So what do the new ones mean?"

"New whats?" Keitaro asked.

"The tattoos," Greg said.

"Oh," Keitaro said as he looked at his torso. "Rage, disgust, sadness, hatred, and fear." He leaned forward. "You should be able to read this one." Tattooed across his upper back in a bold, gothic scrawl were the words Never Hesitate. 'He's lost it,' Greg thought as he looked away. 'And it's all my fault.'

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

Greg stared at the ceiling over his head and tried to decide what had awoken him. "Hey Keitaro?"

"Yeah?" Keitaro asked from the other bed.

"You hear something?"

"Something woke me up," Keitaro offered.

"Same here."

"You think that it's trouble?" There was a rapid string of pops somewhere nearby. "That was a suppressed MP5."

"Yeah," Greg said. He had been on his feet before the burst had ended.

"Do you really think that the Bernardellis would. . ."

"No," Greg said, interrupting the young man. "I know they would." Greg shrugged on his shoulder holster and slid his suppressed Jericho into place. "Let's go."

"Right," Keitaro said as he hefted his Glock in one gloved fist. "Kind of makes you wish that we had tried to bring the other weapons."

"We'll get new ones soon enough," Greg said dismissively. He edged the door open and looked out into the hall. It was clear.

"Where should we go?" Keitaro asked.

"The bridge," Greg said. "Let's see if we can get to a radio."

"They've probably already taken the bridge," Keitaro said.

"We'll just have to take it back," Greg said with a shrug. "Now stop whining and come on."

"I don't whine," Keitaro growled. "At least not any more."

"If you call that not whining I'd hate to have met you before," Greg said.

"You did," Keitaro said dryly as he stepped into the hallway with his Glock held loosely in both hands. "Except I was dangling at the end of a fishing line."

"Did I apologize for that?" Greg asked.

"I think so."

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

"Hello Mrs. Noriyasu."

"How do you know my name?" Haruka demanded as she glared at the priest.

"I was told that you might come here," the priest said in English. "Follow me please." He turned and walked into the small church that made up the mission. Haruka and the rest of the girls quickly followed after him.

"Seta!" Haruka stared in horror at her husband. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's in a low grade coma," the priest said. "He took a ricochet to the head. He's been unconscious for more then two weeks."

"How did he get here?" Haruka demanded.

"Two heavily armed men brought him here," the priest said. "One of them left a message for you all. He taught me to say it, but I don't know if I can remember it all."

"He taught you to say what?" Haruka demanded.

"Much more death and destruction will come," the priest said in rough Japanese, "before I can come home. Do not follow me."

"Who said that?" Naru demanded.

"Keitaro," the priest answered simply. "He said his name was Keitaro Urashima."

-End

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

-Author's notes. Sorry this took me so long. School's started again and I'm trying to balance everything out. I'll make a longer chapter for next time.


	9. Chapter 09

I don't own anything.

Keitaro's Big Adventure

Chapter Nine

Greg looked around the empty hallway and reached into the pocket of his leather jacket. "Easy," Keitaro said. "It's two in the mourning. Not many people would be up that early."

"We know something's wrong," Greg answered as he kept his fingers curled around the grip of the Jericho in his pocket.

"Is something wrong sirs?" Greg turned and saw a man in a sailor's uniform looking at them inquisitively.

"Yes," Greg said simply.

"Anything I can help you with?" the sailor asked.

"What's in there?" Greg asked, pointing to the door behind the young man.

"That's just a storage closet," the sailor said. Greg's fist shot forward and connected with the younger man's solar plexus. He collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut.

"What are you doing?" Keitaro asked as Greg kneeled and pulled a ring of keys of the sailor's belt.

"There are scuff marks," Greg said as he began trying to put keys into the door's locks. "It looks like someone was dragged in here." Keitaro kneeled in front of the door and stared at the green carpet. There were indeed very slight drag marks. "Got it." Greg opened the door and winched.

"Oh my God," Keitaro managed.

"Grab the sailor," Greg ordered as he drew his Jericho from his pocket. He stepped into the room and stared at the corpses pilled on top of each other. "It's the crew." He turned and helped Keitaro drag the sailor in. The younger man closed the door and looked around.

"This was really clean."

"Single shot to the temple," Greg said. "I would guess that they were knocked unconscious to avoid noise and blood. Then they were brought here and executed."

"We're in deep shit, aren't we?" Keitaro asked.

"Yep."

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

Seta opened his eyes and winced as light flood his vision. "Oh my head," he moaned. He opened and eye slightly and saw a blurry figure with long, dark hair standing over him. "Keitaro? What happened? Where's Greg?"

"Calm down," the figure said in a rather feminine voice. "It's me Shinobu." Seta's vision snapped into place and he stared at the young woman. He jerked up and looked around the room.

"Where are Greg and Keitaro?" he demanded. "Where am I?" He looked back at the young woman and noticed that her eyes were filling with tears. "Shinobu?"

"I'm sorry!" Seta watched as the young woman burst into tears and fled the room.

"Wonderful." Seta climbed to his feet and looked around the room he was in. "Familiar." He glanced down at his watch and stared in shock. "No way." The number depicting the date showed the tenth. On the eleventh of November they were in the jungle. That could only mean that he had been unconscious for a month. 'Either that or Greg is trying to play with my head,' Seta thought. That wasn't completely unthinkable, but it wouldn't explain why Shinobu was here. Suddenly the door slid open and Seta found himself staring at a teary-eyed vision of his wife. "Haruka?" he managed to squeak in shock. Then his increasing shock didn't permit him to speak as the shorter woman threw her arms around him. Suddenly she jerked away from him and pulled back her first.

"You jerk!"

"Much better," Seta murmured as he flew through the air and impacted rather solidly with one of the walls.

"How could you just run off without calling me?" Haruka raged as she picked Seta up by his collar. 'This calls for drastic measures,' he thought.

"I was just trying to keep you and Sarah safe," he managed to rasp out. Haruka's grip on his collar slacked and he fell to the floor.

"You jerk," Haruka managed as she sat down next to him and put her back to the wall. "Where's Keitaro?"

"Where am I?" Seta countered.

"You're back at the dorm," Haruka said. "Now where is my nephew Seta?"

"I have no clue," Seta said. "But he's in good hands," he added quickly.

"The same good hands that let you get shot?" Haruka demanded. "Let me guess. It's that Greg Tyler guy again."

"How did you. . ." Seta began in surprise. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Save it," Haruka said. "I had a little talk with Harry in Hawaii."

"He's a dead man when Greg finds out," Seta said as he clutched his head in his hands.

"You're not helping your case," Haruka said. "Now you're going to tell me everything."

"You're the only one who can know," Seta said with a sense of seriousness that made Haruka look at him in surprise. "Do you understand?"

"Yes."

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

"Bless you."

"Thanks." Keitaro rubbed his nose. "I think I might be coming down with something."

"That would suck," Greg said simply. He patted down the terrorist and pulled out a strange looking weapon.

"Is that an MP5?" Keitaro asked.

"It's an MP5K-PDW," Greg said as he unfolded the stock and checked it carefully. "With a suppressor and a red dot scope."

"Nice?"

"Very," Greg said. He dropped his ancient leather jacket and slung the weapon over his shoulder. He pulled his jacket back on a grinned. "Our odds just increased."

"You mean we're on the board now?" Keitaro asked.

"Cute," Greg said sarcastically. He kneeled again and checked the body more thoroughly. He drew a massive black pistol and handed it to Keitaro. He checked it carefully and frowned when his eyes fell on the insignia on the slide.

"The Bernardellis."

"You were expecting some other terrorist organization?" Greg asked.

"More like hoping," Keitaro said as he tucked the Beretta into his waist band and tugged his T-shirt down over it. "So what do you think their plan is?"

"They're looking for us," Greg said with a shrug. "They probably killed all the non-essential crew for the uniforms so that they could move freely."

"What happens when the boat docks in MolMol?" Keitaro asked.

"They just disappear," Greg said. "I've seen it a dozen times."

"So we just hide out until we get to MolMol?" Keitaro asked.

"Yeah," Greg said. "Of course if they can't find us soon then they'll start threatening the passengers."

"Would they really kill anyone?" Keitaro asked.

"Definitely."

"How can you be so sure?" Keitaro demanded.

"I was one of them," Greg said calmly. "And I know I would."

"You're a sick person."

"And you're becoming me," Greg shot back.

"That scares me," Keitaro admitted.

"It should."

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

"And that's your whole story?" Haruka asked.

"That's it," Seta said.

"What have you gotten my nephew into?" Haruka asked tiredly. "He's a kind boy, he shouldn't have to do this."

"I know," Seta said. "I never intended for it to happen like this. It just started off like any other dig. Then the Bernardellis came and that seemed almost normal too. I never thought that it would have gone this far."

"And now Keitaro is caught in the middle of a war," Haruka said.

"Greg will keep him safe," Seta said.

"I don't know if I trust a cold-blooded killer to keep my nephew out of trouble," Haruka said.

"I never said anything about staying out of trouble," Seta said. "I just said that Greg would keep him safe."

"You're not doing a very good job of comforting me," Haruka said angrily.

"Sorry," Seta said. Haruka sighed and lit a cigarette. She fished something out of her pocket and held it out.

"We found that on you," she said. "Does it mean anything to you?" Seta read it and nodded.

"It's from Greg," he said. "Hey says that Keitaro is fine and they're heading for South Africa."

"We have to go there right now!" Haruka exclaimed.

"No," Seta said firmly. "We would just get in their way; besides, they're probably long gone by now."

"We can't just do nothing!" Haruka said. "We need to find him."

"We can't!" Seta snapped. "You will get in his way and then everyone will die. Do you understand that?" Haruka stared at him in shock. "Well?"

"Yes," she said quietly.

"Good."

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

Greg glanced over the side of the boat and frowned. "There it is." Keitaro leaned over too.

"That's how they got on the ship?" he asked in surprise.

"That's it," Greg said as he stared at the tiny boat. "I'd say that we have about twenty people to deal with. At the absolute most it's thirty."

"Do we even have that many bullets?" Keitaro asked sarcastically.

"Fifteen in the MP5K, fifteen in the Beretta, fifteen in the Glock, six in the Colt, and twelve in the Jericho," Greg said. "We'll be fine."

"I thought the Jericho carried sixteen," Keitaro said.

"The 9mm version does," Greg said. "I traded that one in for the .40-caliber one in Israel."

"Oh," Keitaro said.

"Hey you!" Keitaro turned and saw a man in a sailor's outfit walking towards them.

"Can I help you?" Greg asked as he stepped forward. It took Keitaro only a second to realize that Greg was blocking him from the view of the sailor.

"What are you doing up this late?" the sailor asked.

"We're taking a walk," Greg said. "We're paying customers and I don't think I like your tone."

"The guests aren't allowed near the railing at night," the sailor said. "A person fell over a year ago and we never found him." Keitaro figured he had let the man live long enough. He drew his Glock and fired. The single bullet hit the man in the chest and knocked him to the deck.

"Nice shot," Greg said as he kneeled next to the body. He reached under the sailor's jacket and tugged the MP5K free. He also grabbed the Beretta and a pair of thirty-round MP5 clips strapped together.

"You're them," the man said weakly, almost surprising Keitaro. He grabbed the man's collar and dragged him to the railing. In one move he hefted the man and threw him over. He turned and saw Greg staring at him, looking a little surprised.

"Now we don't have to hide the body," Keitaro said with a shrug. Greg's surprise dropped away and he shrugged.

"Good thinking."

"I thought so," Keitaro said dryly as he inspected the cut-down sub-machinegun. "How does this think work?"

"Just like the MP5," Greg said. Keitaro nodded. He knew MP5s as well as he knew his own hands.

"So what's the plan?" Keitaro asked as he hid his MP5 under his jacket.

"We lay low," Greg said. "I told you this already."

"I thought you were joking," Keitaro said with a shrug. "I never would have thought that 'laying low' was even in your vocabulary."

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

"Seta!" Seta smiled and hugged Sarah tightly. The young woman hugged him and then pushed him back. "Where's Keitaro?"

"He can't come home yet," Seta explained. "He's still checking a few things back at one of the digs."

"You left that idiot in charge of a dig?" Sarah asked in surprise.

"I think you're underestimating him," Seta said with a forced smile. "So how have you been since I left?"

"Pissed off," Sarah said. "I thought you were going to skip out on Christmas."

"I would never do that," Seta said.

"What about the idiot?" Sarah asked.

"Ah," Seta began. "I don't know if he'll be able to make it. He's very busy."

"Ah," Shinobu murmured in disappointment.

"We know where he is now!" Su exclaimed. "Let's go visit him!"

"No!" Seta said, reacting before he could think. Everyone turned and stared at him. "Ah. . .well there are some very expensive pieces coming out of that dig," he began. "And whenever you girls get around Keitaro there tends to be a lot of destruction."

"It's his fault," Naru sniffed. She turned and walked out.

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

"I'm home." Keitaro sighed in disgust as he watched Greg look around the ship's casino with open wonderment. "This is my home and I'm never leaving."

"You smoke, you drink, you gamble, and you kill people," Keitaro said. "You're going to hell Greg."

"Look around you," Greg said with an uncharacteristic grin. "We're already there."

"You have a point," Keitaro said as they walked into the casino. "Ooh. . .open bar."

"Sweet." Keitaro followed after Greg as the older man pushed through the crowd. Greg ordered two drinks and handed one to Keitaro.

"Do you really want to let things pan out?" Keitaro asked.

"Yup," Greg said as he lit his cigar. Keitaro shrugged and fished a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket. "We're going to die if we try anything stupid."

"Is saving innocent people stupid?" Keitaro asked.

"The few must always be sacrificed for the many," Greg said simply.

"Not always," Keitaro said quietly.

"Always in this line of work," Greg said. He ordered something form the bar tended and sat down.

"Hey Greg?"

"Yeah?" Greg asked.

"I've got a question," Keitaro said.

"I can answer it if it's about the military, weapons, tactics, or operations," Greg said.

"It's about marriage," Keitaro said.

"I know a little about that," Greg admitted. "Do you have a woman you want to propose to or something like that?"

"Yeah," Keitaro said. "What do you think?"

"Marriage will be the best and worst times of your life," Greg said. "I probably wouldn't do it again."

"Is it really that bad?"

"And that good," Greg said as he took his bottle from the bar tender. "Once this is over you may want to try it."

"You make it sound like it's a passing fad," Keitaro accused.

"Don't take life so seriously," Greg said dismissingly, "it isn't permanent."

"You're a very negative person," Keitaro said.

"Here's an old saying for you," Greg began, "there is a fine line between being a pessimist and a realist."

"True," Keitaro said.

"Can I have your attention?" Keitaro turned and saw a man standing on the casino's stage.

"So it begins," Greg said.

"Can you get him from here?" Keitaro asked.

"If need be."

"I repeat!" the man on the stage called. "Can I have your attention?" The audience thought it was a gag until the man pulled out his Beretta and fired several rounds into the roof.

"Let's just get out of here," Greg hissed as he stood up.

"That's going to be a trick," Keitaro answered, gesturing towards the main doors. People were already trying to get out and a pair of gunmen was keeping them at bay. Even as Greg watched a man with an MP5K fired a burst into a well-dressed man's chest.

"This is going to be messy."

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

"Go." At that single command Keitaro raced forward. He slammed into one of the men guarding the door and his arm came around in a deadly arch. The knife in his hand bit deep into the man's throat and sent blood flying. The man's partner went down in a burst of 9mm slugs. There was another burst and Keitaro turned to see the man on the stage pinwheel to the ground. That did nothing for the panicking crowd. "Let's get out of here."

"Right," Keitaro said as he wiped the blade of his knife off and stuck it back in his boot. He drew his Glock and stepped over the dead bodies. "What about them?"

"Clear the hall first," Greg said. "Then I'll take care of it."

"Fair enough." Greg kicked open the door and Keitaro aligned his Glock's sights on the first man. He fired twice and moved to the next man. Beside him Greg opened fire with the MP5K. In a matter of seconds the six men in the hallway were dead. "Nine?"

"Yeah," Greg said as he pulled the MP5K's empty magazine out of the receiver and dropped it. He pulled a longer thirty-round one from his coat and pushed it into the weapon. He straightened up and moved to stand in the doorway to the casino. "Alright!" he roared, his voice overpowering the crowd's panicked murmuring. "Listen up! I am an anti-terrorism expert. I need you all to cooperate with me and stay in this room. If you chose to venture out then I can not guarantee your safety!" He closed the doors and rubbed his throat.

"Twenty-one left?" Keitaro asked as he pulled his own MP5K out from under his coat.

"At the most," Greg rasped.

"What's at the least?"

"Zero."

"What are the odds of that?" Keitaro asked.

"Just above zero," Greg said dryly. He kneeled next to one of the bodies and pulled the radio off of him. He tucked the ear bud into his ear and clipped the radio to his belt. Keitaro kneeled as well and began searching for magazines. Soon his pockets were full.

"Where to next?"

"The bridge," Greg said.

"What's a bridge?" Greg froze and stared at Keitaro for a moment. "What?"

"I just keep forgetting that you're a civvie," Greg said simply.

"What's a civvie?"

"Civilian," Greg said. "We're going to where they steer the ship form."

"Oh."

"We'll probably run into a bunch of them along the way," Greg added. "They heard the gunshots." He tapped the ear bud and grinned. "Never pass up the chance for information."

"Oh," Keitaro said. "I'll remember that."

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

Greg threw himself flat as bullets flew over his head. He aimed and fired at the two men standing less then ten meters away. 'I forgot just how much I hate CQB.' "Keitaro?"

"Still here," the young man said. "How far are we?"

"One more floor to go," Greg said. "Stay alive till then and you can take a nap." He started to walk past one of the men on the ground and paused. "Ooh."

"It creeps me out when you say that," Keitaro said. Greg ignored the insult and picked up the shotgun from the man's belt. "What is that?"

"Remington Model 870MCS with a ten-inch barrel and no butt stock," Greg said.

"I have no clue what you just said," Keitaro said.

"Little gun, big boom," Greg said.

"Oh."

"Down!" Greg threw himself on the ground and pulled the Remington's trigger. The two armed men who had appeared at the bottom of the stairwell leading to the bridge were caught in the tiny shotgun's deadly net of buckshot pellets and knocked to the ground.

"Whoa."

"Yeah," Greg said as he pumped the weapon's handle. "Shotguns are the simplest weapons in the world. It's a point and shoot affair." He kneeled next to the first body and began pulling shotgun shells out of the man's pockets and shoving them into his own. He straightened up and loaded one shell into the Remington. He walked to the bottoms of the steps and tried to remember just how the hell one was supposed to storm a stairwell. 'Fuck it.'

"What's the plan?" Keitaro asked.

"Shoot them, don't get shot," Greg said as he un-slung his MP5K and ejected the magazine. He tapped it against his palm and shoved the magazine back in.

"Sounds like the plan you would come up with," Keitaro said as he ejected the magazine in his Glock and checked the weapon carefully.

"Hey you two!" Greg whipped around and pulled the trigger on his MP5K without even really aiming. The 9mm rounds slammed into the man's legs and he fell. Keitaro leveled his Glock and put the man out of his misery.

"Ready to go?" Greg asked as he ejected his weapon's magazine and pulled a new one from his pocket.

"Yep," Keitaro said as he holstered his pistol and un-slung his MP5K.

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

"Well this was unexpected," Greg said as he looked around the empty bridge. There had been a single guard.

"Do you think we killed them all?" Keitaro asked.

"I guess it is possible," Greg said as he examined the weapon he had taken off of the latest guard. Something rattled nearby and Greg whipped around, aiming the guard's sniper rifle at the broom closet door. He wagged his hand at Keitaro and the younger man nodded. He grabbed the door and ripped it open.

"Don't kill me!" Greg sighed and lowered the rifle.

"Were there any men in here?" he asked.

"Please," the man whimpered. Greg growled in annoyance and grabbed the man by his collar. He dragged him out of the closet and slammed him into the wall.

"I'm not going to kill you," Greg said slowly, "but if you don't answer my questions then I will hurt you. Where there any men here?"

"Yes!" the man screamed. "There were gunshots down stairs and they went that way!" Greg looked at the door and dropped the man.

"Hey Greg!" Greg turned and stared at the radio lying on one of the consoles. He lowered the rifle again and picked up the radio.

"Anthony?"

"How the hell have you been Greg?" the younger man asked.

"Been better," Greg said. "What are you doing here Anthony?"

"We need the information you have," Anthony said. "Look down at the deck."

"Freeze!" Greg barked before Keitaro could look. Greg looked at stared at the men on the deck. "You took a hostage."

"We were kind of hoping that you developed a conscious since we last met," Anthony said.

"Sorry," Greg said.

"Not as much as this young woman will be," Anthony said. "Say something honey."

"Help me!" Greg sighed.

"So where are your friends?" Anthony asked.

"Well the archaeologist is in a coma and the other. . ." Greg paused, ". . .well he's dead."

"That's a shame," Anthony said. "Why don't you come down here and say hi?"

"Why not?" Greg asked. He thrust the rifle in to Keitaro's hands. "You're providing support."

"How does this thing work?"

"Just think of it as a big M4," Greg said simply as he pushed the second door open and they stepped outside. There was a set of stairs leading down to the main deck. Greg paused and used his Jericho to shatter one of the spotlights. "Stay here and support me."

"Right."

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

Keitaro watched as Greg strode calmly towards the small group of men. He dropped his MP5K and the Jericho. His old Python was fairly well hidden under his shirt. "Well I must say," the lead Bernardelli said, "it's nice to see you again."

"I'd say the same," Greg said, "but you're still ass ugly man." The voices floated up to Keitaro clearly enough. He flipped the safety to the proper position and rested the rifle's forearm against the railing.

"As amusing as ever," the man said. "Now drop all your weapons or you're going to be wearing this girl's brains." To Keitaro's complete shock Greg tossed the shotgun and the Colt to the deck.

"Now let her go Anthony."

"Alright." Keitaro let out an unconscious sigh of relief as the man released the girl. He brought the crosshairs to bear on the man's skull and glanced at Greg. He put his hands in the air and Keitaro fired. Greg snatch up his Colt and fired twice into one of the men. Keitaro swung the rifle around and fired twice more, hitting another man in the torso. Suddenly sparks leapt off of the railing next to Keitaro.

"Shit!" He dropped and cursed as bullets continued to ricochet. There were four more muted explosions as Greg emptied his Colt. The men below continued to shoot, but they had shifted their target. Keitaro burst up and fired again. He looked around desperately for his next target and frowned.

"It's clear!" Greg called. "Come on down Keitaro."

"Right!" Keitaro called as he slung the rifle over his shoulder and drew his Glock. He moved quickly down the steps and stared at the bodies sprawled out on the deck.

"Ten here," Greg called. "That's twenty-three."

"Are you okay?" Keitaro asked as he reached the bottoms of the stairs. He looked at Greg and winched. "How many extra holes?"

"Just one," Greg said as he brushed the blood off his faces with his left arm. "I can't move my other arm."

"Great," Keitaro said. "Do you think that's all of them?"

"The odds are increasing," Greg said. "What the hell are you people doing out here?" Keitaro turned, already trying to aim that the people behind him. He suddenly realized that they carried a video camera instead of a gun. He holstered his Glock.

"Get back with the others," he barked. "It's still not safe here." Something heavy hit the ground behind him and Keitaro turned quickly to see Greg leaning against the railing. "Greg!"

"I'm fine," the older man said as he pulled off his belt and wrapped it around his right arm. He pulled it tight with his teeth.

"Are you sure?" Keitaro asked.

"You worry too much Keitaro." Greg glared at the people. "Get the hell out of here."

"Look out!" Keitaro turned again, trying to aim his pistol even as four men burst from the doors behind the cameraman.

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

"Seta!" Seta spun around and stared at the young woman standing in the doorway to his room.

"What's wrong Shinobu?"

"You have to come see this." Something in the young woman's tone got him on his feet.

"What's wrong?"

"It's on the T.V." Seta was already past her and moving to the Hina Inn's lone television set in the lobby/living room. On the television's screen was a new program.

"So far over eighty bodies have been recovered from the ocean liner Queen Sharon," the anchorwoman said. "Of them thirty are believed to be terrorists. Sadly the bodies of the two anti-terrorism experts were lost to the sea." The scene changed to a rather jumpy-looking hand-held shot. It showed a fierce gunfight between several men. For just a second Seta had a clear picture of both of the.

"Greg," he whispered. "Keitaro." On the screen one of his former partners suddenly spun sharply, his hand clutching his chest. Seta saw a picture of Keitaro's face. "No." Then Greg was turning, moving to help the fallen man. His body was knocked sharply to one side and his shirt turned dark. He landed on the ground and fired the sub-machinegun in his hand. Then Keitaro was staggering to his feet. One of the other men fired a weapon of some kind and Keitaro was thrown off his feet and against the railing. His body jerked again and he fell over board. Then Greg was on his feet. He had dropped the sub-machinegun and was firing his pistol. Suddenly more off his shirt turned red. He stumbled back and the railing hit his back. Then he too went over. The screen changed back to the anchorwoman.

"The identities of the two men are being withheld until their families are notified." Suddenly the phone began to ring. Seta stared at it. The caller I.D. screen showed the name Urashima.

-End

(:::::::::::::ii::::::::::::::)

-Author's notes. It's been a while since I updated this. This chapter ended up being a hell of a lot longer then the others.


	10. Chapter 10

I still don't own anything.

Keitaro's Big Adventure

Chapter Ten:

"Any they were found wash up on the beach?" Ramba Ru asked as he followed one of his family's advisors through the hospital. The older Englishman quickly nodded.

"Yes Your Highness."

"I don't exactly see how this concerns the royal family of Mol Mol," Ramba said, "unless they were found carrying contraband, were they?"

"No Your Highness," the advisor said. "It's just an interesting coincidence."

"What is?" Ramba asked.

"Two days ago the Ocean Queen's two saviors were knocked overboard sir," the advisor said. "The ship was well within our territorial waters and the tides make it possible that these two are them."

"Who are they?" Ramba demanded.

"One is former Sergeant Major Gregory Tyler," the advisor said. "A sniper in the American Army and a veteran of more foreign conflicts then the government can admit to. A sniper as prolific as he is hasn't been seen since World War II. If even half of the operations he has carried out were admitted to then he would hold records for number of casualties, distance from rifle to target, and probably have every ribbon and medal available."

"And the other?"

"Keitaro Urashima is a former multi-year ronin and first year student at Tokyo University," the advisor said. "That's a pretty damn respectable accomplishment in its own right."

"Urashima," Ramba repeated. "I know that name from somewhere."

"He is the land lord of the dormitory that your younger sister is staying in," the advisor said. "A post he has been suspiciously absent from for almost seven months."

"What the hell are an American sniper and Japanese student doing together?" Ramba wondered.

"Beats the hell out of me," the advisor said. "I get the feeling that they're going to have one hell of a story."

(:ii:)

Keitaro stared at the ceiling. "Well hell is definitely anti-climactic."

"I prefer the term peaceful." Keitaro turned and stared at the man sitting beside his bed. He looked vaguely familiar.

"Great," Keitaro grunted as he sat up. "Satan is a damn mini me."

"There is an uncanny resemblance," the man standing behind Keitaro's clone said.

"So where's the other guy?" Keitaro asked.

"He's safe," the man said. "I can assure you that you both are very much alive."

"Oh," Keitaro said. He scratched his chin and frowned. He never did liked beards. "So if I'm not in hell, then where am I?"

"You're in Mol Mol," the man said.

"That psycho gaijin's homeland?" Keitaro asked. "Somebody just drop kick me in the head already." He flopped onto his back and covered his eyes with his hand.

"I assume you mean my sister." Keitaro glanced at the man between his fingers. "I must agree, her greetings can be a little. . ."

"I will kick your ass if you say energetic," Keitaro growled.

"Now see here!" the other man sputtered.

"Relax," Keitaro's clone said. "Both of you. I was actually going to say painful."

"Good man," Keitaro said as he sat up again. "So where's Greg?"

"In the next hospital room," the clone said. A loud scream echoed through the hospital and Keitaro climbed to his feet.

"Good!" he said cheerfully. "Greg's awake."

"You can tell its him by a scream?" the clone asked.

"We've been hanging out for a while," Keitaro said. "Plus memory becomes better with repetition!"

"Uh," the clone said intelligently. "That would explain how you got into Tokyo University." Keitaro blanched slightly and felt his fingers begin to twitch.

(:ii:)

Greg leaned back against the wall and stared at the man sitting across from him. Sprawled was probably a better choice of words. The door opened and Greg looked up to see his partner in crime step into the room. "Yo."

"Yeah," Keitaro grunted. "What happened?"

"I opened my eyes and this guy was looming over me with something in his hand," Greg explained. "Draw your own conclusions from there."

"Oh."

"Where the hell are we?"

"Mol Mol," Keitaro said. He stepped into the room and two men followed after him.

"Who's the wannabe?"

"Him?" Keitaro asked, jerking his thumb at his look a like. Only they didn't look that much alike. The other guy looked like Keitaro had when they first met. "He's. . .I never asked."

"Oh," Greg said. "Who the hell are you?"

"He is Crowned Prince Ramba Ru!" the other guy exclaimed. "The heir to the throne of Mol Mol!" Greg scratched his chin.

"Easy Slim," Greg said. He turned to Keitaro. "That's the island we were heading too, right?" he asked in English.

"That's the one," Keitaro said.

"English is my first language," the other guy said.

"Isn't that nice," Greg said. "You still remember the spot?"

"Of course," Keitaro said. "We're going to need our weapons."

"Hey Slim," Greg snapped. "Were we found with any weapons?"

"No," the man said.

"Shit," Keitaro growled. "We need guns. Lots of guns."

"Bombs would be nice," Greg added.

"What's going on here?" Ramba asked in English.

"Should we tell him?" Keitaro asked.

"The man's royalty," Greg answered.

"So we should tell him because he's royalty?" Keitaro asked.

"We should tell him because a sponsor couldn't hurt," Greg corrected. Keitaro picked at his fingernail and shrugged.

"Okay," he allowed. "Just give me a second." Greg watched as the young man walked over to the sink and began to wash his hands.

"Shit."

(:ii:)

"I'm worried," Ramba said.

"Well that's understandable," Yu Fon said calmly. "After all, I wouldn't trust those two to take care of my car let alone the world."

"Should we support them?" Ramba asked.

"The question is more, can we afford not to?" Yu asked. "Believe it or not, these two are highly qualified. One is probably the most experience soldier in the world and the other has a surprisingly good knowledge of ancient people in this area."

"So we should support them," Ramba said.

"Yes sir," Yu said. "There's also the problem with the fact that these mobsters may very well know who Urashima is."

"You mean my sister may be in danger," Ramba said.

"Yes sir," Yu said. "I suggested dispatching the SFOG to aide Urashima and Tyler and then they can go to Japan to retrieve the princess."

"What about during the time until then?" Ramba asked.

"The women she is living with will be able to protect her until then," Yu said. "It shouldn't take very long for those two and the SFOGs to recover whatever the hell they need."

"Do you really believe that an ancient people could actually construct a weapon of mass destruction?" Ramba asked.

"Well someone certainly does," Yu said, "and they aren't afraid to kill to get their hands on it."

"You're right," Ramba said. He chuckled lightly and glanced at the ceiling. "My sister used to tell me about how wonderful and kind Urashima was."

"He has certainly changed sir," Yu said.

(:ii:)

Keitaro watched as Greg ran the clippers over his head. "Have you always done your own hair?"

"Almost," Greg said, the clippers removing the long hair that had come with seven months without a hair cut. "Before I did it my father did it. He learned it in the Marines. Done." He set the clippers down and scratched the top of his head. "Much better." His hair was cut in a very short military style. The thick beard he had been growing was gone as well. Once again he looked incredible young. "You should cut your hair."

"Maybe," Keitaro said, running his gloved fingers through his shoulder length locks. "I hate people waving sharp things around my head though."

"No problem!" Greg said, brandishing the electric clippers.

"Oh no," Keitaro said. "You are not doing my hair!"

"Why not?" Greg asked. "It's not like I can take an ear off with these things."

"Fine." Keitaro saw Greg frown slightly. "What?"

"You seem a little off," Greg commented. "Was that your first near death experience?" Keitaro frowned as he remember being hit with swords, solid rock carvings, and soaring into the sky and into the ground. . .over and over and over.

"No."

"Okay."

(:ii:)

Yu pushed the door open and stepped into the room. "Urashima! Tyler!"

"Who the hell are you?" one of the men asked. Yu fought back his urge to stare.

"Tyler?"

"What?" the man asked as he ran a hand over his clean shaven jaw. "Never seen a man get a shave and a haircut?"

"Right," Yu said. "I'm Captain Yu Fonda of the Mol Mol Army Special Field Operations Group. Prince Ru has ordered us to accompany you on your journey to where ever the hell you're going."

"Oh. . .yea," Greg said. "Now can I get a weapon? I don't like being unarmed."

"I'll see if I can get you a pistol," Yu said. "Nothing more. Frankly, I don't trust either of you."

"That's fine," Greg said. "Trust needs to be earned. You've got the location?"

"It's all up here," the other man said, tapping the side of his skull. Yu stared at him. The hospital gown and hippy hair were gone. The man remaining looked like one hell of a good soldier. "Don't worry about a thing."

(:ii:)

Greg leaned back in his seat and stared at the sky as the jeep bounced along the dirt path. He had always loved convertibles. "It should be around here somewhere," Keitaro said from the front passenger seat.

"So how long have you been working for these guys?" Greg asked the man sitting next to him. The gunner for the fifty-cal mounted on the jeep's role bar stared at him for a moment and then began to jabber on in a language Greg had never heard. "Whoa! I have no clue what the hell you just said."

"He says that he has no clue what the hell you just said," Yu said from the driver's seat.

"Oh," Greg said. "You and me both."

"Stop here," Keitaro said. The jeep braked to a halt and the gunner immediately stood and grabbed the spade grip of his machinegun. Greg vaulted over the side of the jeep and watched as the old deuce and a halves grinded to a halt.

"You have anything around here that isn't World War II surplus?" Greg asked.

"These," Yu said as he patted his assault rifle. "Besides, if it ain't broke, don't fix it."

"Amen," Greg said. "I'm starting to like this country."

"We're looking for any kind of passage leading underground," Keitaro cut in. "Have your men spread out an start looking. It we blast our way down then we might end up damaging something."

"Alright then," Yu said. He turned and began snapping orders like any good officer. Greg watched as the soldiers in the vans began pouring out and spreading out like a well trained military unit. The men spread out in a circle and disappeared into the jungle. Greg reached down and let his fingers rest on the grip of his new .45. This was beginning to get fun. Suddenly one of the soldiers burst from the foliage. "He says he found a cave."

"Excellent," Greg said happily as he started off in the direction that the soldier had come form.

(:ii:)

Greg glared. "That's not a cave."

"Well it's a hole in the ground," Yu said. Greg felt his eyebrow twitch.

"You couldn't even fit one of your men through there in that kit!" Greg snapped, pointing to the combat ready soldiers.

"Well they're going to have to take it off," Yu answered. "Simple problem simple answer."

"Yeah right," Greg said as he peeled off his BDU blouse and his belt. He drew his pistol and stared at the hole. "Who's got a light?"

"Here," one of the soldiers said, holding out a flash light.

"Thanks."

"It's alright." Greg sighed and rubbed his nose. "Give me five minutes and then follow."

End

(:ii:)

Author's notes. Sorry, sorry, sorry! As some of you may know I have the attention span of a gnat. Gnat. I like that word. It's funny.

I was planning on doing a full rewrite of the story, but I decided not to make you wait that long.


	11. Chapter 1 Take Two

I don't own anything. Note. This is a rewrite, not a new chapter. See A/N.

Keitaro's Big Adventure

-Chapter One

Keitaro watched as the world spread out below him. Why was this always happening to him? He was so close to finally achieving his goals and then life had stepped in, in the form of a rather beautiful young samurai, and sent him flying yet again.

His musings were broken by a cry from below. "Right here! I'm open!" His eyes shot open and he saw his girlfriend standing below him, arms outstretched. He was heading right for her! Could this be it, he wondered as he drew ever closer to Naru. Yes! This was it! He was finally going to do it.

Then a white van pulled between the two of them. "God damn it," Keitaro grumbled in defeat. Some days, it really just wasn't worth getting out of bed. Or rather, for him, most days were like that.

(:ii:)

"Holy shit," Motoko gaped as she watched her landlord collide with the van. That had not been her intent. She wasn't sure what her intent had been, but that certainly wasn't it. The van swerved wildly, rising up onto two wheels. For a second, it appeared that the driver had regained control, but then the van flipped and barrel rolled several times before coming to a rest on the driver's side.

"Over did it a little, didn't you Samurai Girl?" Kanaki asked.

"I didn't mean to do that!" Motoko exclaimed, shooting an annoyed glance at the young goth behing her.

"Do you think Sempai is okay?"

"I'm sure he's fine, Shinobu," Motoko stated, assuring the young girl despite her doubts. Sure, Keitaro was amazingly resilient, but that had been overkill. Motoko took a step towards the van before jumping back and sliding into a fighting stance as the front passenger door burst open. A dark-haired man with young Caucasian features obscured by broken sunglasses climbed out slowly and promptly tumbled from the van to the ground. He dragged himself a little ways away before rolling onto his back.

"Ouch," he managed.

"Are. . .are you okay?" Motoko ventured as she relaxed slightly and stepped closer. The man ignored her and shuffled around for a moment before producing a lighter. He lit the crooked cigarette dangling from his lips and took a long drag on it, the tip glowing bright red in the late morning sun. He stared at the sky for a minute and a strange, harsh cough escaped his lips, then another, and another, the sound slowly turning from coughing to increasingly maniacal laughter as he sat up and plucked off his ruined sunglasses.

"Way to go Samurai Girl," Kanako deadpanned, "you drove him insane."

"That's right, you son of a bitch!" the man snapped suddenly, stabbing a finger at the overturned van. "I told you your driving would kill you one of these days. Now you're dead and I'm still here!" He broke off into more mad laughter.

"Woo! That was a bad one!" a new voice exclaimed. Motoko looked up to see a familiar looking man climb out of the van as well. "What did we hit?"

"No!" the other man cried. "Why won't you die, Noriyasu? What do I have to do, kill you with my own bare hands?"

"Seta!" Naru cried in shock. "What are you doing here?" Seta turned, brushing away the trickle of blood that obscured one of his eyes, and smiled at the young, auburn-haired woman as Sarah latched onto his leg with a loud cry of, "Papa!"

"Oh, hey Naru. You haven't seen Part-Timer around have you?"

"Try the back of your van," Kanako suggested dryly. Seta moved to the back of his van and opened its rear doors.

"Oh, there you are Part-Timer!" He dragged his unfortunate understudy from the wreckage of his vehicle. "Up you go, we have no time to waste. Now where's Greg?" He looked around and quickly spotted the man still sitting at Motoko's feet. "What are you doing over there?"

"I'm going to start killing you now," the man, Greg, stated slowly as he painfully climbed to his feet and hobbled towards the other two men. "Tell me when you're dead, okay?"

"What's this all about Seta?" Naru asked.

"I just need Part-Timer to help me out with something," Seta replied. "I'll see you girls later. You stay here, Sarah." With that Seta turned and set about across the Tokyo-U campus, dragging a barely-conscious Keitaro behind him and leaving the residents of the Hina Sou is shocked silence.

(:ii:)

"Here we are," Seta stated as he dug through his pockets and pulled out a large key ring. Keitaro stared sullenly at the suspiciously anonymous door before them.

"Seta, I really do have a class, right now."

"You already said that," Seta replied cheerfully. "Professor Matsumoto, right?"

"Right," Keitaro stated. "He doesn't tolerate tardiness."

"That's because he's overcompensating for the fact that he's a hack," Seta stated as he pushed the door open and led the way into the darkened room beyond. "Don't worry, once he hears that you're with me, he'll cave real quick."

"You'd better be right," Keitaro growled, uncharacteristically threatening. He hadn't wasted all those years trying to get into Tokyo-U only to fail because his mentor kidnapped him.

"He usually is, though it pains me to admit it," the third member of their little group comment. "Now, where the hell are we?"

"This is the archives for the archeology department," Seta stated as he finally hit the light switch. "It's where we keep items awaiting examination and most of our documentation."

"Oh, wow," Keitaro murmured in shock as he looked around massive room. There were row upon row of shelves and each shelf was nearly buried under massive wooden container crates.

"This place was originally a bomb shelter," Seta explained absently as he made his way over to a wall that was hidden behind a long row of filing cabinets, "built in secret in case the Americans decided to nuke Tokyo."

"Looks it," the man Keitaro didn't know commented, surveying his surroundings before glancing at Keitaro. "We haven't actually been introduced, have we?"

"No," Keitaro stated.

"I'm Greg Tyler," the man stated, holding out his hand.

"Keitaro Urashima," Keitaro returned as he shook the man's gloved hand, making a valiant effort not to wince at the pressure Greg's grip exerted before letting go.

"Greg's an old friend of mine," Seta stated.

"That's stretching the truth," Greg commented drolly. "Hey, what's that?" Keitaro turned and saw Greg pressed up against the side of a glass display case like a little kid at the zoo.

"That's a recent donation," Seta stated without even bothering to turn from the file cabinets he had started going through. "It was found on Tarawa in a Japanese bunker not too long ago." Keitaro moved to Greg's side and found that the case contained a single old rifle with a long, gangly scope mounted on top of it.

"What is it?"

"It's a Springfield M1903A1 with an Unertl eight power scope," Greg stated, his voice hushed as if he was speaking of a hallowed relic, "one of the best sniper rifles of World War Two. My dad used one in the Pacific. Actually, he fought on Tarawa."

"Cool," Keitaro stated. What else was he supposed to say? He turned back to his mentor and saw that the professor had moved to another set of cabinets.

"Leave it alone, Greg," Seta ordered. "It's doesn't even work anymore, at least I don't think so."

"It works." Keitaro turned and saw that Greg had somehow managed to extract the rifle from its glass case without the key and without breaking the panes. "The sniper even carved the scope's zero into the stock!"

"How did you do that?" Keitaro asked.

"Do what?" Greg asked as he checked the rifle. "Hey! Somebody left ammo here!" He dove into the desk the case had been sitting on. "M2 armor piercing! The cases aren't corroded at all, these are still live!"

"Give me a hand Part-Timer." Keitaro gratefully made his way over to his mentor. Greg's glee at playing with the weapon bordered on disturbing.

"What are we looking for?"

"A possible Rosetta Stone," Seta stated. "Ah ha!" He pulled a thick, leather-bound book out of one of the filing cabinets and moved to a table set up between two rows of shelves.

"Is that it?" Greg asked as he wandered over. He was wrapping the rifle in a long, white cloth.

"It is," Seta stated proudly as he reached into his pocket and dug out a dozen large photographs. "And put that rifle down. You're not stealing priceless artifacts from my department. Have a seat Keitaro." Keitaro sat and looked at the pictures. They were of a large stone covered in rows and rows of writing.

"What is this?"

"It's a massive tablet I found on my dig in Hawaii," Seta stated as he pulled a magnifying glass from somewhere as handed it to Keitaro. He pointed to two separate lines of writing. "This is Latin and these are Egyptian hieroglyphs. Do you recognize this fifth row?" Keitaro adjusted his glasses and squinted down at the picture through the magnifying glass. It took him a moment, but the answer left him even more confused. "They looked almost like the markings from the Pararakelse."

"Exactly!" Seta exclaimed as he produced a small, leather-bound notebook. "A language, need I remind you, that we have so far been unable to translate. This might be the key!" He opened the book to a page where he had already started translating the language.

"A Rosetta Stone," Keitaro whispered excitedly. There was a mechanic snapping behind them.

"I told you not to play with that rifle, Greg," Seta ordered, not bothering to turn around.

"I am sorry," a strange voice grated, "but I am not Greg and this is not a rifle." Keitaro turned and found himself staring down the barrel of a small, black pistol. "We will be taking that book Doctor Noriyasu."

(:ii:)

"There they are," Haruka Urashima commented as she pulled her van to a stop. "Why are they all just standing there and where's Keitaro?" She pushed the door open and took note of the wrecked van not too far away. "Oh God," she grumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose as she felt a migraine coming.

"Isn't that Seta's van?" Mutsumi asked.

"Yeah," Kitsune agreed.

"If Seta's around here somewhere, I'd bet he's got Keitaro," Haruka stated.

"Why would Seta be here?" Kitsune wondered.

"Because he always shows up at the worst time," Haruka stated flatly, a vein pulsing in her temple. "Hand me the fax, would you Mutsumi?"

"Here you go!" Haruka took the troubling slip of paper and slowly approached the group of Hina Sou residents. "So, I see Seta's running around here, huh?"

"He and another man grabbed Keitaro and dragged him into Tokyo-U!" Naru exclaimed. "We were finally about to. . ."

"A man?" Haruka interrupted. In all her years traveling with Seta, they had only ever traveled with another man once for any real amount of time. "Did you catch a name?"

"Seta called him Greg," Motoko stated.

"Damn it," Haruka muttered. "The only way this situation could get worse."

"Do you know who he is?" Naru pressed.

"He's nothing but trouble," Haruka stated. Telling the truth there would only cause problems. "If he's with Seta, then something big must be happening. We have to find them."

(:ii:)

Seta glared at the men in front of him. "Who the hell are you people?"

"That doesn't matter," the leader stated in Russian-accented Japanese. "Wilhelm, find this Greg person. Be careful, he may be armed." None of the other four men answered. The leader frowned and glanced back over his shoulder. "Wilhelm?" He looked around quickly. "Where is Wilhelm?"

"He was just here," one of the men stated in English, a language Seta was quite fluent in.

"Find him!" the leader snapped. The four men broke up and moved down different aisles. The leader turned back to Seta and Keitaro. "Now, you will give me that book."

"Do you know what this is?" Seta demanded. "This is an amazing discovery! I don't know who you are, but you aren't stealing this from me."

"I care little for padding your résumé," the man stated. A loud bang rang out and the leader spun. "Who was that?" No one answered his cry. Seta smirked. Greg was very good at what he did. It was amazing someone had even managed to get a shot off. "How many men are out there?"

"Just Greg," Seta stated. The leader stared at him for a long moment before snatching up the book and pictures and disappearing out the door. Greg appeared a second later, a small cut on his cheek and a knife in his hand.

"Feel free to try and stop him any time!"

"I don't mess with armed men," Seta protested. "It's one of my rules; right below: 'get as much money up front as possible." Greg snorted and tore out of the room after the man, the rifle still slung across his back. It took a moment for the full implications of that to hit Seta.

"After him!"

(:ii:)

Keitaro puffed as he tried to keep up with Seta. The older man was in surprising shape for his age. Luckily, Keitaro was in amazing shape for his appearance. Living at the Hinata Sou had been good for one thing at least. Unfortunately for both, Greg and the man he was chasing were on a whole different playing field.

Seta and Keitaro burst out of the administration building and slammed to a halt, nearly tripping over the man they had been chasing.

Greg was kneeling at the top of the steps with the rifle in his hands. He was aiming at the man who had stolen the book. Keitaro could barely see him across the campus. "Don't kill him!" Seta wheezed. Greg growled something and shifted slightly. The rifle cracked and for a moment nothing happened. Then a tree branch fell out of a distant tree and struck the fleeing man.

"Happy?" Greg asked. The bastard wasn't even winded. He wrapped the rifle back up and slung it over his shoulder. "Where the hell did everyone go?"

"Classes probably," Seta stated. "Don't worry about the shot. Most of the people around here know me pretty well. They probably won't even think about it once they find out that I'm back."

"I'm not sure that's something I'd brag about," Greg stated as he began walking towards his victim.

"What the hell is going on?" Keitaro demanded, finally catching his breath.

"Don't know," Greg stated. He reached under his coat and pulled out a long knife. "I'm going to find out though." Seta promptly smacked him on the back of the head. "By asking very demanding questions of course," Greg added, sliding the knife back into its hiding place.

(:ii:)

"You know, that only had about a twenty percent chance of working," Greg whispered to the man walking beside him. "If the rifle's zero had been even slightly affected over the past couple decades, I would have missed."

"You always could hit the long odds," Seta countered. "I'd just rather you didn't go around killing people in public places, especially not in front of Keitaro."

"So, I shouldn't bring up the five dead guys in the archive?" Greg asked. Seta froze mid-step, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he just shook his head and took his place by Greg's side.

"No one ever goes down there anyway," he stated simply.

"Do you think he's okay?" Keitaro asked suddenly, interrupting their whispered conversation.

"He just had a gun pointed at you!" Greg exclaimed. Keitaro made a dismissive motion with his hand and pushed on a few steps ahead. "Kid's got heart, not a lot of common sense and absolutely no sense of self-preservation, but a lot of heart."

"His greatest strength," Seta stated proudly.

"I'd prefer a steady trigger finger," Greg grunted.

"He's not an assassin," Seta shot back.

"I only did that for a couple of years," Greg protested, "mainly because of the money though. . .and because I was bored. This was before the Army let people with tattooed hands in, or back in, in my case."

"You're a horrible, horrible person," Seta commented amiably.

"And you're an idiot," Greg returned just an amiably, "so, we're square." They reached the man and found Keitaro checking his pulse. He looked rather panicky.

"His breathing and pulse are erratic!" Greg kneeled and checked the man's pulse. Then he checked the man's pupils and his ears.

"He's fine."

"Really?" Keitaro asked.

"Definitely," Greg stated as he reached under the man's coat and withdrew a small, black pistol. "Check his ears. There's no blood coming out of his ears, so he's fine." Keitaro did check the man's ears.

"What's that clear fluid?"

"It just means he caught a good bump to the head," Greg stated as he straightened up, tucking the man's pistol into his belt. He caught Seta's eye and drew a finger across his throat. "What say we get out of here and leave this guy for the cops?"

"Sounds good," Seta stated as he reclaimed his book. "There's a café not too far from here."

"But my next class. . ." Keitaro began.

"Don't worry," Seta interrupted. "I'm a professor here too. I've got dirt on just about everybody. They won't hassle you."

"And you say I'm a horrible person," Greg commented.

"Extortion is nothing compared to murder," Seta shot back.

"Murder. . ." Keitaro stated.

"He's kidding!" Greg exclaimed, throwing an arm over Keitaro's shoulders and leading him away from the dying man. "Do I look like a murderer to you?" The younger man looked Greg up and down. "That's rhetorical. You answer it and I'll have to hurt you. Cool?"

"Cool," Keitaro squeaked.

-End

(:ii:)

-Author's notes. Dear god! A true sign of the apocalypse. Alright. Sorry for the wait. I'm not sure when exactly I stopped writing new chapters for this, but I has been years. As part of my going back and revamping a few old stories, I've decided this one needs a revamp.

For those of you that haven't been kicking around with me, the way I typically do a rewrite is to post the new first chapter so you yourself can dare to compare between old and new and agree that this needs a rewrite. When I post the next new chapter, I'll delete all the old chapters. This gives you time in case you wanted to save them for some ungodly reason. And, no, I have no idea when that update will come, but it won't be that long. . .probably.


End file.
